La-bor-atory

My boys never wake up low.Okay.  Never is a pretty final word.  Let's just say, lately...they rarely wake up low.But this morning they woke up 55, 63 and 103.  Why? Because the boys were getting their fasting labs done this morning, silly.  And nothing can be easy when it comes to diabetes.  I'm pretty sure that's a rule or something.Anyway, they were low.  And understandably,  I was furious inside.  I was already 6 months behind getting them there.  I already forgot to bring them in every day of spring break last week.  This was my last chance to get it done without missing school.  Sure,...

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On heaven, life and love.

Well, it looks like I peaked.My last post garnered an obscene amount of hits.  In fact, the most hits ever in the history of Our Diabetic Life. That is a lot of pressure, since obviously I can only go downward from here.  At first I was intimidated to write again, but this morning I woke up feeling liberated more than anything else.My last post was a happy surprise.  I don't have to "live up to it."  I can write what I want.Translation:  I'm going to my "special place," so brace yourself.My eyes have changed.When I look out the window I see a different world than I did a year ago.  Everything is a miracle to me. ...

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Our Diabetic Life in drawings

A typical day.I wake up in a cold sweat at 5:10am realizing I slept through my alarm...I go to their rooms to check to see if they are breathing.  They always look like they're dead, and they're breathing so shallowy I can't see their chests rise and fall...so of course I have to poke them. Then I roll them out of bed and make them breakfast.  And like the old adage says: if you make a child with diabetes breakfast...they want to know how many carbs to go with it. Then I send them to school. Then I do the same things regular people do...but one handed, or with one eye always on my phone.  The phone can't leave...

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Fighter vs. Fighter

He is peaceful.  Calm.  Asleep.His breath so shallow it is almost undetectable.  He lay there with the innocence only a sleeping child could ration.  His lips soft and relaxed.  His cheeks flat from sheer relaxation.The game is afoot.I reach for his hand and am fooled into thinking tonight will be easy.  His wrist is limp.  His hand easily surrenders to my grip.I lay the lancet on the side of his fingers and engage the needle.SHUNK.And abruptly, he jerks his hand violently...valiantly attempting to escape.I'm ready though...I tighten my muscles, struggling to keep control of his arm that suddenly seems to...

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Strings attached.

(I'm aware this blog post is very similar to the last blog post I wrote one week ago.  It's where I'm at. I've been seriously itching to write all week long, so I sat down and this is what came out.  It is what it is I suppose.  I'm sure I won't be this pathetic forever.  Really, pretty sure.)I feel like a marionette.  I clumsily walk through my day with a goofy look on my face hoping that no one notices my heart isn't in it.I take big steps planning to cover a lot of ground when really my life is playing out on a confined stage with an audience that is rightfully absorbed in their own drama.Sometimes I pause and...

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It hurts.

The shock has officially worn off, and the waterfall is in full force...drenching me in my new reality.He is gone.He isn't coming back.You would think after 6 months all my wounds would have scabbed over, but my emotions are rawer than ever.  I see with perfect clarity what has happened.  I'm feeling the grief in every pore.  I'm falling apart.Today I was sure my eye sockets would cave in from all the tears I have shed the past week.  I look over at his spot on the couch and it physically hurts knowing he won't sit there again.  The worst part is the kids are in the same boat.  They are hurting more today than...

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Kinder. Gentler. Understanding-er.

There is a story that goes like this:A man went to his doctor and said, "Doctor, I'm worried about my wife.  She is losing her hearing and she won't admit to it.  It's getting bad.  How can I get her out of denial so she can get some real help?"The doctor offered this advice:  "Go home and when her back is to you, say her name quietly.  Increase in volume until she answers back.  This will give you some idea how bad the problem really is."The man agreed the plan was brilliant and rushed home to his wife.  As luck would have it, when he opened the front door he could see his wife across the room doing the dishes. ...

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Cure-O-Matic

The headlines are hurling out of what seem to be a Dr. Seuss like machine.    Words like "5-10 years" are being used systematically as if popping tic tacs into ones mouth.Hope is being inflated like California gas prices.And still, I sit here at my computer disappointed.After 15 years of this I am a realist.  But you can't take away that part of me that instinctively hopes.Hopers gotta hope, right?Last week I attended a JDRF event and was given the news about Viasyte.  The woman I spoke to was beyond excited about the technology and explained that JDRF doesn't give millions of dollars to just anyone...they believe...

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Ryan's Birthday Week

It's Ryan's birthday this coming Sunday, so today kicks of his Birthday Week! (That's how we roll in the Schuhmacher household.) So in honor of Ryan's week, I made this video that I have already watched a couple thousand times, and will surely watch a couple thousand more. Happy Birthday week to my love... PS: If you are getting this on email, you'll need to click over to my blog HERE to watch it....

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