Nature Mommy learns some lessons

As mean as it sounds, I really hate it when people’s response to hearing about Logan’s Diabetes, is “Oh, but, so .. it’s controllable, all you have to do is give him shots, right?” Wrong.
Plus, what do I look like? Doogie Howser? I am not only NOT a medically trained professional, I am to a doctor what a sea cucumber is to a shark.

I know, they mean well, but I can't tell you how much responsibility, worry, and attention come along with this.. condition.
So it turns out, managing blood sugars is a bitch.

I have had some experiences recently that have begun to make me understand the deeper mysteries of this condition.
Admittedly a novice, admittedly a chicken weenie, but there are SOME things I am getting a clearer picture of. Namely, how our bodies work, (and not just the naughty bits!) but more specifically, how Logan's body responds (or doesn't) to insulin, carbohydrates, and exercise.


It's kind of stressful.


I notice most days I have my arms held up and in, kind of tight, like a fighter, ready for the punch. I have to force myself to let my shoulders sag. "Not on MY watch!" my shoulders broadcast to everyone. Maybe this is why people are smiling at me less.

Maybe I should take that anti anxiety medication more often.

Whatever.
I decided to go camping with the boys this week since Jer is gone to Texas on business. I was thinking the healing powers of the trees, creeks, and magical properties of Lake Wenatchee would be a tonic to our souls. I wanted to swim in another lake before winter set in. I felt I missed out on camping experiences while being in the hospital myself (hand surgery) then with Logan. For me it was like, "Oh, let's not go camping, this summer, let's just tread water in this murky pond chock full of hungry sharks for two months! Wanna? Wanna? " Noper. But there was nothing to be done, so now I am making up for lost time.



Scary Blood sugar episode a few weeks ago: This one was a low. Lows are the ones that can cause seizures, coma, the like. You know, typical di-ba-lee-teez fare. I gave Logan his blood sugar test in the car (we were on a shopping adventure) he was 150 (perfect!) and off we went to find a McDonald's with a play place. By the time I found one, they were both asleep. Fine, I think to myself, so I went through the drive through, got some happiest of meals (they have Star Wars toys right now YAY!!) and continue home. I peek at them in the rear view Awww. Cute nappers with perfect blood sugars. I am listening to my Dave Matthews CD, contentedly feeling "In Control" of the sitch. They sleep for about an hour, and we stop at a yard sale. I decide to recheck Logan's blood sugar, before giving him his happy meal… and it is 62! He is not able to make words! Is he sleepy? Or slipping away into a coma? Ahh I don't know!! Control the panic, Jen, control .. the.. panic...


I gave him juice, waited, rechecked, fed him, rechecked.. and it all worked out okay. (Plus we got new sleeping bags at the yard sale) but learned a very important lesson about this injected insulin. Our pancreas would react if we reached a normal blood sugar level, and balance itself by shutting off insulin production. Injected insulin just keeps chipping away at those blood sugar numbers till it "wears off" in about two hours. (so if he misses a scheduled meal.. it can be a problem) You know, no pressure. Gulp.



Freaky blood sugar experience number two, while camping yesterday, this one was an unexpected "high". Highs are the ones that damage all the little nerve endings in your fingers and toes, and kill off small blood vessels in those parts.. which is why a lot of diabetics lose toes and other marginal body parts. Yuk. That just reminded me of Jeff Goldblum pulling off his ear in that gross remake of "The Fly" in the 80's.

I fed the kids breakfast, did my calculations, gave the insulin and off we went on a hike. (really, a nature walk with altitude). I cheerfully packed our diabetes kit, food, juice, water, etc. I felt like Frodo, packing up his little loaves and preparing his knapsack for a dangerous journey, but with a good attitude nonetheless. One think I do know is that only two things can "unlock" your cell walls to allow sugars to pass into them from your bloodstream. One is insulin (either made by your pancreas, or Lily corp.) The other is a hormone released when you exercise or stress out. Remember the scene in "Steel Magnolias" where Julia Roberts is getting her hair done for her wedding and she starts foaming at the mouth, eyes rolled back, flopping around, until her mom (Sally Fields) hold her head and forces orange juice down her throat? I always wondered if she had some seizure disorder or was just an amazing spaz or a Bridezilla.

Nope, she was a stressed diabetic. (okay, she was ACTING, people, but this is what I am trying to tell you.) So if you exercise, or are stressed, you are on the lookout for a low.

Anyhoo- we get to the top of our hill and find a super amazing rock (pictures to follow) and I think to myself, "Wow, I"m smart! I know that exercise has probably got his blood sugar down. I shall check him, and feed him a snack on this beautiful rock" So I check him,....... he is at 437! (his range is 100-200, with his target number being 150. I freak! (internally)

Quickly, I do what any mother would do, survey the forest for signs of some random Endocrinologist to push out of a bush and say "Well, you know, it's probably just.(fill in the blank) so do this.(fill in this one, too). and he will be fine."
Great. Just like police. Never an Endocrinologist when you need one.



MMMkay. I know he's too high, so I have to give him some insulin out here in the freaking woods. Great. There goes my peaceful, nature lady moment. At least Ms. Baggins has her handy pack, with "the precious" inside. After muttering about this to myself, blaming the syringes, the insulin (Had it gotten too warm? Too cold? Had I forgotten to subtract x from y squared, minus my blood pressure that morning??) I finally remember another mother's kind words about blood sugar numbers. "Don't beat yourself up about highs or lows, you'll get really bruised!" Sigh. I am not usually the type of person who can let go of of self doubt or self blame easily.. but I have to try.

Breathe in. Out. Logan is fine. Draw up insulin, poke little boy, talk about the colors of the leaves changing..

Insulin is in his body, we keep hiking. I keep telling myself: "Get over it, get over it, get over it."

(Later I find out he ate THREE not TWO packages of Ritz crackers with cheese. That accounts for the high... NOW I can stop my quiet and secret obsessing)

Sigh. Lots to learn.

Overall, he is doing much better, we have moved to being able to to injections in his thighs, (YAY!!!) And when he is not doing an HSP, he is just a super happy little dorky five year old. He is still stubborn, but for some reason he is much more even keeled than he used to be. He told me once, "I have a village in my heart. One one side of the village, there is a storm. On the other side there is a rainbow." He seems to be spending more and more time in his rainbow village, and very soon, I will join him. For now, I am just trying to keep my shoulders relaxed.