Diabetic Landmines

When Cheyenne was really little, we used to put those teeny band-aids on her fingers after she tested.  Not really to stop the blood-there really wasn't a lot of it left after the copious amounts of blood the old test strips used to require (enough to donate to a blood bank if you ask me).  We put the bandage on her fingers because, as any parent knows, there's some sort of magic power in a band-aid that makes a kid forget all about their troubles.  I'd buy them by the carton because we'd use so many.   BUT...the downside to easing Cheyenne's woes meant increasing mine.  These darn band-aids would stay on her finger for about an hour and then she'd shed them off all over the house.  To my major distress I would find them everywhere: stuck to the furniture, carpets, cushions, and sometimes hitching an unauthorized ride on my clothes.  It drove me crazy!  But it made her feel better so I just suffered through the whole ordeal by imagining the day she'd be older and these little landmines would be a distant memory.

Fast forward 15 years and things haven't changed much.  Though I'm not finding band-aids everywhere--that's changed.  Nowadays the two diabetics left at home leave me tiny test strips almost everywhere!  And while they are much easier to suck up into oblivion with a vacuum, they still drive me crazy!  Everywhere I go, these buggers are there vexing me at every turn.

Oh won't the madness go away??

But then I realize something.  When I finally get my wish, when these terrible tokens finally disappear from my house, like the band-aids have and Cheyenne with them, then it would only mean the other kids will be gone too.

So now when I start to tire of the test strip landmines all over the place, I realize it's not so bad after all.  So for now, I continue to do all my mine-sweeping with my vacuum...and a better attitude!

A1c It's Just Not for Me

It's A1c time again.  I've already got a headache thinking about it.  Because I know this time around the numbers won't be too good.  The last three months have included Christmas, New Years, and all kinds of events that have distracted me from playing Nurse Nelly the way I should.  This diabetes stuff is a full-time job and quite frankly it doesn't always get the attention it needs/deserves.

The A1c always feels like a report card.  Like a test of my motherhoodship.  My ability to defy the gravity of bloodsugars, tests, and carb counting every few hours-all while trying to hold down the regular life that the outside world sees.  It's a very exposing look at the last three months of my parenting.  I often think it would be refreshing, though deviously selfish on my part, to require mother's everywhere to take a blood test every three months that could tell how exact they were during that quarter on doing their job just right; on laundry, housekeeping, helping their kids with homework, feeding their family nutritious meals, etc.  I'd call the test a Mom1c.  This test would provide me with lots of nervous and grumpy mother's to bond with.

Seriously, it gives me a headache. And a massive guilt complex.

But, what it ALSO does do is give me a shot in the arm (be it a painful one).  Like going to see your parole officer (I really don't have one of those), it's the kind of sober meeting where you come away feeling like you can do better than you have been.  You can re-prioritize your life and give the most important things the attention it deserves.  You plan new tactics so that you won't get distracted.  And, for a blissful month (hopefully two) I really will do better. 

With that in mind...I'm off to see the doctor with two kids in tow.

POSTNOTE:

Just got back from visiting with the kid's endocrinologist and things went better and worse than expected.  One had a good A1c and the other?  Well...not so good.  Thankfully we have a very understanding doc who knows that teenagers don't always manage their diabetes with lifelong optimum health in mind.  I have found that it has always been easier managing diabetes in a child who's still dependent on their parents and not so easy as they get older and more independent.   But he gave some very very valuable advise: "Don't Give Up."  A timely token for a weary parent.  And so, we plan to keep our chins up and keep trying!