Wednesday, November 7, 2012

The wave.

B and L had their first therapy appointments this week.  They both left with the biggest smiles declaring, "That was awesome!  When are we going back?"  A stark contrast to M and J's reaction. 

On the way home B shared with me an observation that none other than his school teacher imparted: 

"Imagine standing on the beach.  Happy, talking with your friends...and then out of nowhere a giant wave hits you.  That is how sadness works.  It washes over us when we least expect it."

No truer words have ever been spoken.

But this post isn't about grief today.  I want to twist the analogy a bit and see if it hits home for you.

"Imagine standing on the beach.  Happy, talking with your friends...and then out of nowhere a giant wave hits you.  That is how low blood sugars work.  They hit us when we least expect it."

Oh's a better one:

"Imagine standing on a baseball field.  Happy, talking with your friends...and then out of nowhere a metal bat hits you in the neck.  That is how low blood sugars work.  They knock the wind out of you when you least expect it."

Case in point, I saw two 40's and two 30's last week.

My head is still spinning.

The boys will have a few days when everything works as it should.  Basals are spot on.  Ratios are spot on.  All is right with the world, and then BAM!  Wave/Bat.  Out of nowhere.

The internal panic is so hard to describe.  As a parent I try hard to be calm and matter of fact. 

"Let's fix this."

But as a human being I begin my internal panic attack and think, "What if." All the while trying to pay attention to my protocol. 


Check for Insulin on board.

Temp basal if necessary.



There are a lot of important steps and wisdom that need to come to the forefront of my mind during a panicked incident such as a 30 with a load of insulin on board...

My brain is running on 50% capacity as it is.  I'm nervous I won't make the best decisions, and since I don't  trust myself lately I've been over compensating with more carbs than they need.

Because I can't lose them.
(Whoa.  Where did that wave just come from?)

It is the griever in me that gives in to the knee jerk reaction to get them out of danger, and get them out as quickly as possible.  No...I'm not going over board...but I'm not following the rules of thumb I always kept myself to, either.

I'm scared more.

Scratch that.

I'm terrified more.

Lately, I lay in bed at night and wonder if the boys are breathing.  I think, of course they are, them not breathing would just never happen.  Then I think...shiz happens to our family that just doesn't happen to other families.  How does God think I am strong enough for all of this?  And then I remind God that I'm on my breaking point.  I NEED joy right now.  Anymore sadness and I'll break.  I'm sure of it.  I'm keeping it together...but it seems my "together" is held only by lightweight thread and Elmer's Glue.

I'm hoping that by typing this out, I'll be more aware of my problem and be able to deal with the waves with a more realistic philosophy.

"A wave?  So we are wet.  We dry ourselves and move on."

And not:

"A wave?  We might get swept out to that a shark?!"

I understand why I'm feeling this way.  I just need to move forward and trust that everything will be ok.

That is a lot of trust.  Laying it all at God's feet has never been more real for me than it is now.  Finding HOW to do that has been a process. 

It is so much easier said than done.

I'm working on it though.

And in the meantime I'll remind myself that my boys have woken up every morning  so far, and they've been perfectly fine.

I'll get through it.  These waves/baseball bats just need to back off.  I started off this blog saying this post wasn't about grief.  Organically, it turned out that it was exactly what this post was about.

Just goes to show that this blog is my best form of therapy.  I never know what I'm going to get when I start typing.  I've had a good cry.  Things make more sense.

I feel better.

It WILL be ok.  Not okay is just not a viable option right now.

I can do this.
Pep talk...CHECK.
Bring it.


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