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Showing posts with label crappy days. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crappy days. Show all posts

Saturday, July 2, 2011

P.S. I'm gonna punch you in the nuts

Dear Diabetes,

It has been awhile since I've felt compelled to write you a letter. But you've been a real pain in the ass lately, and today was the high that broke the camel's back.

You see, Elise was at a birthday party today. We almost didn't go because it was outside at a splash park, and the heat and sun makes her rash feel worse. But we decided to dose her up with some benadryl and let her have some fun.

Except that she didn't. Because of you. I was encouraged when she woke up at a nice 108 this morning (that after a middle of the night correction which she fought, and all the screaming woke up her brother... but that is another bitch session for another time).

But when party time came, she was in the upper 200s and rising. We skipped her snack, hoping that would even things out. She kept going higher. Her tummy hurt. She was crying. She wouldn't pose or smile for any pictures and she spent most of the party huddled on my lap. When she did try to play, the stomach pain was so bad all she could do is stand there, bent at the waist and holding her tummy while she cried out.

You are one shitty disease, diabetes.

When it came time for food, my friend let me know that there was pizza, but she had also ordered some chicken strips for Elise if we wanted those.

We asked Elise if she was hungry. She didn't answer. We asked if she wanted some chicken strips. She said no.


She had seen the pizza, and that was what she really wanted, but didn't want to ask. She knows it's hard on her blood sugars. She knows she doesn't feel good after she eats it (to be clear here, we have NEVER said this to her, and we have never NOT let her eat pizza. She's just smart, and she just knows). We told her if she wanted pizza, then that's what she could have.

I think she just felt too awful to eat, because she just sat on my lap; head resting on my shoulder, while all the other children laughed and played in the water. The juxtaposition between Elise and the other kids was glaringly and heart-breakingly obvious.

The day didn't totally belong to you, diabetes. Elise did get to enjoy some cake; icing and all. Who cares that she ate it in place of her lunch. Or that her BG was 280. She ate it and loved every second of it.

So suck on that, you craptastic piece of trash of a disease. It may be a small victory, but we'll take it. Tomorrow is another day and rest assured I will resume kicking your ass then.

Yours VERY sincerely,
Elise's Pancreas by proxy

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Pity party... table for one

I know I'm running the risk of this blog becoming one big whine session. Or whinge session as my Australian friends would say (we were good friends with a couple from Australia when we lived in SF... their expressions always tickled me). But it's my blog and I'll whine if I want to.

Because I don't have the time/money for a therapist.


So what has me on a groin-kicking rampage today?


-Last night was another beating of a night. No night terrors this time, but lows and a crying baby. And no Fred to help out.


-I called Mattias's pedi for something like the third time this week, screeching that someone needs to fix my baby and make him eat. Since she has already seen him and feels there's nothing more for her to do, we've been referred to a GI doc. Who can't see us for a week and a half. We've also been referred for "Feeding Therapy". Whatever the crap that is. It sounds expensive.


-This is just so eerily like the start of Elise's dx, it has me in panic mode. Calling the pedi because "something" was wrong. We were referred to a specialist... that time it was a kidney doc.


-Nothing is happening on our house and it looks like we'll loose the other one (plus all the money we've put into things like inspections, etc). I am so sad over this I can't even tell you. I know if it is meant to be... blah, blah, blah. It still doesn't make it sting any less.


-I am out of marshmellow/caramel chocolate eggs. You know, the ones by Russell Stover? Oh my, they are like little bites of heaven. Two days ago, I had six. Now they are all gone. Thank goodness we've packed away the scale and I can't see the impact that all this stress-eating is having on my waistline.


To prove this isn't a one-way street of whining, feel free to comment and leave a note about something that is making you want to kick someone in the groin. Come on, join me! There's room for more at my table.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Telling you why I don't like Mondays

Actually, this story begins on a Sunday, but let's not focus on such trivial matters.

I should have known something was off when Elise fell asleep Sunday afternoon. She hasn't napped in almost 6 months, but both she and Mattias were in snoozeville, so I counted my blessings and settled down on the sofa to play a game of Angry Birds.

Dinnertime and she was still asleep, so wandered into her room to check her BG. High 200s and .5 ketones. I gave her her insulin and about 5 minutes later she woke up. And she didn't look good. And she felt like she was on fire. Temperature was 102.3.

Oh oh. Did I mention I gave her some insulin? How completely sucktacular.

Upon being questioned, she said that she would eat, but nothing sounded good to her. Except for maybe McDonalds fries. I debated if that would be a good choice of food if there were going to ensuing tummy troubles. I managed to track Fred down (who was at a hospital visiting a neighbour and did not have his phone on him), and asked him to pick up some fries. Elise's dinner that night was diluted OJ, and french fries.

Her BG remained high all night, but the fever came down with some advil (which I think had a hand in making her BG soar). A correction was given, but I was afraid to give too much insulin because of all the horror stories I've been hearing lately about sickness and lows. Her ketones were always below .5, so I wasn't that worried.

So onto to Monday... luckily, Mattias had his 6 month well child visit scheduled, and the doc said it was okay to bring Elise in too. After a two hour visit, Elise's nose and throat swabs were all negative, as was her urine sample. Thank goodness (?) her temperature was 101.8, or nobody would have believed me that she was sick for all the singing and dancing around the office she was doing. The only thing the doc noticed is that Elise throat was a little red. Mattias also did great, making him a shoo-in for the Best Baby Ever award.

At lunch on Monday, we were going to debut Mattias's first ever solids. I was sure he was going to love it. Except that he didn't. In fact, he was rather insulted by the whole thing. At one point, he pounded his tiny fist into the bowl, sending it flying up into the air and emptying the contents on him, me, the dog, and pretty much anything in a three foot radius.

I decided that it was time to put away the solids. I took his tray off of his high chair, turned around and then heard a thump, then shriek. It seems somewhere along the line, I had forgotten to strap in him into his chair and he fell three feet onto our hardwood floor. I really am the Worst Mother Ever. I can't even explain how terribly CRAPPY I'm STILL feeling about it.

So there I was holding a screaming, sticky baby. I'm covered in rice cereal and having a heart attack thinking that I had broken him. Fred comes rushing into the kitchen and I start screaming about taking Mattias to the ER and that Fred had to cancel the showing.

Wait... did I forget to mention that we had a house showing that afternoon and only 4 hours to clean the house?

So I called a friend (thanks Liz!!!) who lives nearby (because I needed someone to sit in the backseat and watch Mattias for me), and drive about 90 miles an hour to take Mattias to the Children's ER. Leaving poor Fred to clean up the house (because we really can't afford to say no to anyone who wants to see it), and care for Elise, on top of having to deal with his work stuff.

A nearly 3 hour ER visit, 2 head x-rays, and a hefty co-pay later confirmed two things; Mattias is going to be okay (I didn't break him after all), and that I have the cutest, happiest baby in the world (as per the hospital staff).

I returned home to find that Fred had indeed cleaned the house... to the extent that it looked like nobody lived there anymore. Everything had been moved to the garage. One day later, I'm still looking for stuff I use on a daily basis... like my thyroid meds. Thankfully, I was able to combine two doses from some old prescriptions to make the dose I usually take.

And to round off this craptacular day, Elise's dex read HIGH pretty much all evening. Even for two hours after I rage-corrected her. Stupid unknown illness.


I don’t like Mondays.
I wanna shoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oot the whole day down
.


The spoon was a hit. The food... not so much

Monday, February 21, 2011

Something's got to give

It's been in a terrible week here. And while I am prone to hyperbole, the past seven days need none. The simple fact is I have hit a wall and I'm not sure I can even get back up.

Most of it is due to lack of sleep. By my calculations, I have had no more than 14 hours since last Monday. I wish I were kidding. We've had nights where we've constantly been battling lows. We've been dealing with night terrors. And each and every night, Mattias has decided to wake up and party every 3 or so hours.

Since Mattias doesn't have his own room and sleeps in ours, there's not a whole lot we can do. Last night at midnight, Fred set up the pack and play in our office and slept in there with him so I could get some sleep. Except that Elise's BG was low from 1:00 am until 5:00 am. I was up every 30 minutes checking to see if it was coming up.

The other night (well, morning since it was 5:00 am) with Mattias chatting up a storm in his crib, I completely lost it. I told Fred I would rather be dead than live like this. It was a total meltdown.

And before you call the men in white coats to take me away, of course I don't really feel like this... I am just so tired I can't even control my emotions anymore. I feel like I am perched on the edge of a very tall ledge and all it will take is the slightest breeze to send me into a free fall.


Being this tired has made it very hard to take care of Elise, and it's showing. Her numbers are crazy but I don't have the energy to figure it out. Seriously, it's all I can do to give her her insulin and prepare her food. I haven't made an actual meal in a week because it's just too overwhelming.

Add to all this the stress of buying a new house and trying to sell ours. We put an offer on an amazing house yesterday, but it's contingent on selling the one we're in now. Unfortunately, it's in no shape to be shown, and I don't even know where to start.

Are you bummed out yet?

I feel very removed from the DOC right now. Sure I've posted a few times, but really... I'm just phoning it in. I'm trying to read all of your blogs and comment; I just don't have it in me. I want to respond to all the lovely new people who have commented on my blog but there is just never any time (or energy).

I can't make Mattias sleep. I can't control Elise's diabetes or make her night terrors go away. Something's got to give and I'm afraid it just might be my sanity.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

My Mama told me there'll be days like this

Okay, I know that Thursday is no D-Day, and that it's Thursday somewhere in this wide world of ours... but it's sure as hell not Thursday here yet, so I'm going to post about my craptacular day.

Really it's Tuesday's fault. Why? Because Tuesday was the first day I was left alone to care for two kids plus diabetes. And Tuesday went so well that I thought I was the most amazing person in the world. Seriously, I couldn't have choreographed a better day... great numbers, the D-monster behaved, Mattias slept like a dream, dinner was all set to go by 10:00 am, Elise was well-behaved and the best helper I could ask for. It was all so beautiful.

Then I went to bed and the sun came up and lo and behold Wednesday was upon us. And everything that could go wrong, did. Mattias wouldn't sleep, in fact all he did was scream. And he peed through a diaper all over my clothes. And screamed the entire time I was in the shower, cleansing myself of the urine. Elise's attitude was as bad as the summer heat in Texas. I think all I ate today before dinner was a piece of toast. And let's not forget how I sliced open my toe tripping over a chair.

Elise's BG was on a roller coaster ride the entire day. After her morning snack, Eileen got in on the act and showed me a 96 with double arrows down. The meter showed 81. After 5g more and 15 minutes later, Elise was 72 on her meter and Eileen said 80 with double arrows down (this is also after a 15g snack). Mattias was in his bassinet, screaming to be fed. But I couldn't leave Elise until I got her BG up. It was awful... my heart was being ripped in two listening to Mattias cry.

All I wanted to do is sit down and cry, but there wasn't even time for that. Tonight we went up to our church for dinner and all it took was one friend asking me how I was doing for the water works to start. And they've been off and on all night. Even poor Jessica had to listen to me blubber.


I know... there will be good days and bad days, but this one just took all the wind out of my sails. Perhaps it was just the let down from my triumphant Tuesday, I don't know... but I just feel like I've been knocked down and I don't even want to get back up.

But I have to. Because D doesn't take a day off, and so neither will I.