There are days when you just feel numb. Whether you are new to diagnosis, or like us, have been managing Type 1 Diabetes for the past three years, some days are harder than others.
Carter has been struggling with lows lately, and sickness has once again permeated our home. My oldest daughter is recovering from bronchitis, and I have been working feverishly to keep the virus from attaching itself to Carter, add-on being 11-weeks into my fourth pregnancy and it’s a recipe for ultimate exhaustion.
While making dinner tonight, I heard Carter’s dex receiver beep. It was his low alert, I called him downstairs and asked him to bring me his receiver and come to me in the kitchen so I could help him correct his low. He brought me his receiver, I grabbed a yogurt handed it to him and told him to eat it.
Carter walked out of the kitchen, placed the yogurt on the dining room table, and went back upstairs to play with his sisters, unbeknownst to me. A few minutes later I hear his urgent low alarm sound. I run out of the kitchen, look at his dex, he is now 55. I race upstairs and walk into my daughter’s room and see a dazed Carter sitting on the floor.
I grab him, grab the frosting from his bag and shove it in his mouth. Once he is rising, and has finally hit a number in range, out of pure frustration I yelled at him. I yelled at him for being so irresponsible, for creating an emergency that wasn’t needed, but mostly because he knowingly left me to be the only one caring about his low blood sugar. Eventually Carter understood the error he had made, and promised me he would work harder at following instructions so this doesn’t happen again.
Now that my son is peacefully asleep, with good blood sugars, I am overwhelmed with guilt and sorrow. I understand that my son is only 4-years-old, but by the same token, having been dealing with Type 1 Management for the past three years, he is well aware of what is required to keep him healthy. I am very open with my son with the care we must have to ensure his survival, and what that entails, as well as the ramifications of not following the regime. Not taking care of himself results in a hospital stay at best, at worst it means death.
When Type 1 Diabetes has been dealt, there is no time for games. No time to test the waters, the consequences of playing games is too costly. I can’t be the only one in this house who cares about his health. With Carter starting school in less than six months, he has to obtain an accountability for his care.
He has to grow up fast, it’s unfair, it sucks, but it’s necessary. If I wasn’t preparing him to care for himself without my presence, I wouldn’t be doing my job as a Mom.
So though I feel guilty, though I feel sorrow, I know these feelings are temporary, that tomorrow is a new day, and that with each incident Carter is learning a lesson. He’s learning what my expectations of him are, what he must do to stay healthy, that he is accountable, but most of all, even though there was anger, he knows it is out of immense love for him that I am so serious about his care.
May tomorrow be filled with more feeling, feelings of joy, feelings of love, and less filled with the numb walk of going through the motions of managing Type 1 Diabetes.