Monthly Archives: February 2013

Five Seconds

five red button


Five seconds. Seems like an unbelievably short amount time. Especially considering how much runs through my mind in that amount of time every night when I check Medium’s blood sugar.

From the moment that strip sucks up the perfectly formed drop of blood, to the beep that signifies the moment of truth, a lifetime of thoughts rush through my head.

It is possible to have really good control of your blood sugar as a diabetic and rarely be surprised by the number. But the truth is with Medium, his numbers are all over the place most of the time. I attribute this to his being fairly newly diagnosed, him being 11 and pre-pubescent and the fact that it is not my body, so I don’t know how he is feeling. But what number that glucometer displays is always a surprise to me.

I don’t like surprises.

I am a planner.

A self-proclaimed cotrol-freak, and I don’t like that every night for 5 seconds I hold my breath and pray that the surprise is a good one.

In that 5 seconds, I worry that it is too high. I worry that it will be too low. Somehow in 5 seconds I am able to concurrently think about giving a correction bolus and then setting my alarm to ensure that it brought his number down. In that five seconds I decide between juice and a Quick Stick if he is low. I choose peanut butter crackers and a temporary basal rate if he is only slightly low. And I choose just a 1 hour temporary basal rate if he is just slightly higher or lower than I want. In that five seconds I worry that if he is really high, is it because he is coming down with something or because he forgot to bolus for his bedtime snack? I can already picture myself systematically choosing the correct order of the buttons on his pump to deliver a correction versus setting a temporary basal rate. In 5 seconds I am able to wonder why he is low, feel sorry for myself that this will be another one of the many nights that I won’t sleep, and picture myself hysterical if I were to find him cold and dead in his bed in the morning from this low.

Seems impossible to think all of these things in five seconds.

But I do.

Because in that 5 seconds every night, the world stands still as I hold my breath and my son’s life hangs in the balance.

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Poor sport, sore looser, sourpuss, party pooper, killjoy….

Call them what you want, but they all have one thing in common.

Unsportsmanlike behavior.

And that is something very high on my list of “dislikes”.

Medium struggles with this, at times, and so I am uber-sensitive to it.

I grew up playing sports, so even before I had a child who suffered from it, I disliked it. It is immature, mean and really, just ugly.

This past weekend, Medium’s basketball team was in a tournament; a tournament they should have won. But they didn’t even make it to the final game because they lost an earlier game in the tournament that they shouldn’t have lost. It was the worst officiating I can remember witnessing of any game of any sport that I have ever participated in or watched. Yeah, it was that bad. Particularly one referee. A female referee.

Now, let me preface this next statement with this: I have been a female basketball referee. When we were dating in college, my husband and I refereed boys about Medium’s age, in a basketball league. I WAS A HORRIBLE REFEREE!!! I was either afraid to make the wrong call, or too busy watching that I would forget that I was the one who was supposed to be making the call. After only one season I traded my whistle in for a clipboard and coached instead. I was much better at that (I’m sure that’s debatable, but I felt much more at ease, anyway). Now, I’m not saying that females should not be referees. I fully believe that women can, and should, do anything that a man can do (except referee). But I digress.

She had apparently been absent on the day of referee school where they taught what a layup was. Because she called traveling EVERY TIME one of our boys went up for a layup, and therefore at least 10 points were taken away from us. And yes, we lost by less than 10 points.

Did we loose the game because of the referee’s bad calls?


We lost the game because we scored less points than the other team…..for whatever reason. Maybe it was because of all of the missed free-throws our boys had. Maybe it was because we had too many turnovers. Maybe it was because our head coach wasn’t there and my husband had to step in and coach-nah couldn’t be that. Maybe it was because we got some really bad calls by the referees. Or maybe, just maybe, it was a combination of all of those things. Maybe the sequence of events that happened that afternoon, all led to us not scoring enough points to win.

Sports are not always fair.

Life is not fair.

The University of Kansas (my alma mater) played Iowa State University this week and there was a very bad no-call with 4.9 seconds left in regulation that resulted in KU being able to tie the game, sending it in to overtime, where they eventually won. And boy have I heard about it! I cannot stop hearing news and sports reporters talking about it. People are all up in arms on Facebook. And it really ticks me off. Of course, my team won, so one could accuse me of being biased in this case. And one could be right. It’s hard to take your emotions out of such things.

What makes me so mad is that, I try really hard to teach my son that when bad officiating happens in one of his games, that he just has to brush it off. It happens to every team. Every team gets bad calls in every game. True some of them end up having a bigger impact, and may seem to alter the outcome of the game. But I tell him that he need only worry about the things he can control. He should focus on playing better defense, rebounding better, and taking better shots. I tell him he has no more control over the calls the referees make than I have over my age (and boy I wish I did!)

But then he hears over and over again, by adults no less, about how unfair the KU-ISU game was. And how Iowa State should have won. And what kind of actions are going to be taken against the referees. Now, make no mistake, I hope that female referee of ours never officiates one of our games again (at least not until someone shows her what a layup is). But humans make mistakes. And I agree that big enough mistakes, invite consequences. And if these refs consistently make bad calls (or bad no-calls) then they should be dealt with. But they had all of about .004 seconds to make that call. And all of this carrying on about the referees in that game, negate everything I am telling my son. And I hate it when people undermine me. 🙂 I just hope my children aren’t growing up to think that as adults, you aren’t allowed to make mistakes.

The bottom line is this: Life is not fair. Shit happens. Quit yer cryin’. Get over it. Move on. There are bigger fish to fry. This grass isn’t always….wait that one doesn’t fit.

Well, you get it.

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Diabetes Isn’t Funny…And Neither Is This Blog

I have been struggling to write lately. I had been blaming it on our busy fall schedule, having the house on the market, the move, the holidays…..

But it seems that those were just excuses.

I think I have identified the problem.

Diabetes isn’t funny.

I am a funny person (people tell me this anyway). And I do know, and fully admit, that I always use humor to diffuse unpleasant situations. So I love to write funny shit. And I was blessed with a personality and perspective to always find the funny shit.

But diabetes isn’t funny.

And this blog is about diabetes and my thoughts, feelings and experiences with having a child diagnosed with diabetes. And I passionately want to educate people about this disease and I want to be a source of information for new families facing this awful diagnosis.

But again, I have to say it. Diabetes isn’t funny.

I mean, it’s not even remotely funny.

There is nothing funny about blood sugars in the 500’s with moderate ketones.

And I assure you that a blood sugar of 31 is not going to get a chuckle from me.

I promise you that worrying about whether my son will loose his eyesight or keep his limbs, is not the least bit whimsical.

Hoping and praying that my son will someday find someone who will love him and be willing to take on the beast that is this disease does not crack me up.

So, all I am left to write about is the sad, scary, lonely, depressing feelings I have about diabetes.

And that sucks.

It bums me out.

I have already written posts about how type 1 has nothing to do with sugar, and that it really is about a confused immune system and bad luck. I have written many times about how tired I am now that I have to set alarms and check blood sugars all night long and how that contributes to anxiety and feelings of depression.

I have written about the “Honeymoon” period and even about diabetes and ADHD.

Sure I have peppered in a few non-diabetes related posts about ants, laundry, computers and make-up (this one is hilarious-if I do say so myself! And totally true!)

I’ve even written more than one post about not having anything to write about!

But this blog is supposed to be a source for others going through the same thing to find valuable information about timely, targeted diabetes information!


Ok, so I’ve made a decision.

This is my blog and I can do whatever I want. I didn’t sign any contract to ONLY provide diabetes related posts!

And the fact is, that while others that are going through the same thing as me DO need diabetes information, they are still regular people who need to laugh and get AWAY from diabetes sometimes.

Sometimes you need to read about how someone else’s 5 year-old had a MASSIVE code brown in the MEN’S room at a high school during your other son’s basketball tournament and how you had to have your oldest son stand guard outside and not let any men in and how in the end you had to abort the underwear  AND shorts AND shoes and usher the 5 year-old out the side door before you either got chastised by the janitor or arrested for having a half-naked 5 year-old in a public place. (Yeah, pretty sure we are not welcome at Shawnee Mission West High School anymore).

So, my friends, as I am entering the second year of my blog, I am taking it a new direction. If I’m ever going to write again. I’m going to have to start including some non D material.

After all, the name of the blog is WifeMomPancreas, because I am not just a pancreas!

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