Our team

It's been a busy week here. School is finished and I scheduled two appointments for Grace this week so we would be free and clear to go on vacation soon.

Can I just say I love our diabetes team????
GO team GO!!!
GO team GO!!!!
(I think I say that in my mind as I meet with them about diabetes. Honestly. They ROCK.)

First, we started seeing Gary Scheiner of Integrated Diabetes Services. The man knows his stuff. From the minute I sat down with him and Grace, for 90 minutes, he was nothing but honest and knowledgeable about pumping, basal rates, kids with diabetes, tweaking numbers, looking at data and designing the best path for Grace to achieve better control and great numbers. He speaks to her as a PWD to another PWD, never talking down to her and always assuming she has something new to learn. I love that in a CDE. We came out of there with some new basal rates that were proven by data, a new insulin:carb ratio for her lunch hours and the best thing is - I KNEW WHY!!!! I cannot say enough about him. The fact that he is 15 minutes from my house is even better. The fact that he wrote Think Like A Pancreas, a book I use to this day, is even more fabulous. Insurance won't pay for him, but I'd give him a million dollars for his advice and guidance, the man is that good.

Second, we saw Grace's endocrinologist, a woman who is so smart she makes Einstein look like a little ole' boy sitting in the corner with his dunce cap on. I am serious. She is wicked smart (nods to Pam for the 'wicked' saying) and just from talking with her, I want to lean closer so the smarts run off of her onto me. Do you think that would work?

She sees numbers, patterns, data that reveals what we should and shouldn't to, takes precautionary measures, knows when to let it slide, talks in a language I can understand, gives great advice and all the while making Grace laugh and know that she is cool. Who can ask more from an endo?

Want to hear the best part?
The absolute best part of the whole week?

Grace's A1C: 6.8


I feel like we really have some good basal rates, some good ways of not pinging from low to high, ways I avoid the lows and strategies for those foods that do the 'mostest' - namely pizza and spaghetti. I am so proud of Grace and frankly, that we did this, got to a number that makes her feel good and gives me a sense that I barely, barely, just barely, seem to know what I am doing.

Guest post

I am guest posting over at Kelly's blog, the fabulous Diabetesaliciousness!
Thanks for asking me Kelly, I am honored!
Now head over there and catch up with me...

The roller coaster

Happy Father's Day honey!
I wouldn't want to ride on this journey with anyone else but you.

The glass

We all know that expression, the glass is either half full or half empty. It's how we are supposed to see this life, right? Everyone always asks, are you a 'half-full' or 'half-empty' kinda gal? And we comment about other people 'You know, he/she's a half-empty kind guy/gal.' We get it when we say it to each other.

It can be said about diabetes too. That we can look at the glass and again see - are we going to do this journey in the light or in the darkness?

I understand people who see the darkness. I understand seeing the glass half empty. I see it too sometimes. I suppose I don't even have to mention what the darkness entails to those of you here reading this blog. It's unspoken. I don't even have to write it, because as you read this, all the darkness is forefront in your brains. It's there for me too. I get it.

What I will not do is let it lead me.
What I will not do is give it power.
What I will not do is let it influence how I live.
What I will not do is let it influence how Grace gets on with living.
What I will not do is turn an entire lifetime ahead of us into one big half empty glass.

I read a person's view recently that said nothing good has come of this diabetes in their lives.
Nothing. Good. Not one single thing. Not one iota of goodness. Nothing. Zilch. That would mean zero.

For that person, maybe that is their truth. I respect that is where they are on their journey.

For me, it's not. It's not my truth. I will teach my daughter about my truth in this life. That it doesn't have to be half empty. That sure, it can break you, but why would you want to be broken when you can be whole? Why would would you want to wallow when you can fly? Why would you spend your life wishing this or that would go away, instead of lifting it up, joining with it and journeying on in this life, to do the things you would like to do before it all ends anyway?

This diabetes has brought light to our lives.
This diabetes has brought us closer to who we are in our soul.
This diabetes has brought time-management skills like no other, and math to boot!
This diabetes has brought an awareness of life, in all it's infinite finiteness to us.
This diabetes has brought us the perception that we have it pretty good.
This diabetes has brought us resilience.
This diabetes has brought us together as a family like nothing else would.
This diabetes has brought us an appreciation that we should have fun while we can.

I want to say to that person who sees the nothingness in this diabetes and tell them, now is your time to turn perception on its head.

I want to tell them:

Here is your chance.
Here is your chance.
Here is your chance.

Blog-challenged

Drip, drip, drip.
That's the sound of me crying on the keyboard because I lost my shooting hearts background.
I loved those darn hearts.
Now, I am left with flowers. White flowers.
It's not me.
Oh Blogger, how do I get my hearts back???

I:C ratios, got it.
Square bolus, got it.
Super bolus, got it.
Correction for an afternoon water ice at school and a cupcake, got it.
Raise that bolus, lower that bolus, extend this one, got it.
Easy, peasey.

I, however, cannot get the background I want to upload.
I know I am technologically challenged when I have to wait for my 11 year old to get home from school to help me figure it all out.

Hearts will be back soon folks, if I have to come to each of your homes and draw them on my blog!!!

That's my gal

Overheard conversation, 8:30 am, school playground


Grace's friend: What is that on your bottom? I mean, like, what is it?

Grace: It's my Pod. It's a pump.

Friend: You mean like it pumps you up? Like what pump?

Grace: An INSULIN pump. It's on my bottom. It gives me insulin.

Friend: Why do you need insulin?

Grace: Well, you know, I would like to keep on livin.' I need insulin. I need air. I need gum. I need cool shoes. I need water right now. I need insulin.

Friend: Do I need insulin? I mean, like I don't know if I have insulin.

Grace: YOU have insulin. It's in your body. I don't have insulin. My insulin is in my Pod.
YOUR Pod is called a pancreas.

Patience 1, High 0

It's not the Pod, It's not the Pod, It's not the Pod

Those are the words I repeat to myself after these numbers surface a day ago, at school, over the course of two hours:

296
374
395
397

It's not the Pod, something else is wrong. The Pod is working fine. Don't change the site Penny, just wait.
Have patience, have patience, have patience...

I decide that school should give her one unit of Novolog by injection just to be sure.
I tell them to go ahead and do it.


Though, this is what I feel like inside:



Grace's numbers start to fall. Whether it was prodded by the injection of Novolog or the numbers were about to come down anyway, it starts to happen.

274
236
197
156

Sweet, sweet relief.
No site change. Pod continued to work wonders for the next two days. Every number right in range.
I suspect it was the pizza at school and an inaccurate I:C ratio for it.

I shall now go and collect myself.