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 have the strength of the Incredible Hulk.

He won't easily give in.  He still resists and he rolls the whole of his body over to the other side of the bed.  But I still have hold of his hand, and I still think I can retrieve the blood.  I hold the monitor up to his finger and just as I begin to squeeze out the one precious drop of blood I need, he renews his resolve to win the battle and endeavors to jerk his hand away again.

As I tighten my grip and try hard to hold on, I realize I am in the midst of squeezing out a drop...and in my battle to retain equal resistance, I have now squeezed out enough blood to run a complete set of labs on him.

I up the ante and hold his arm steady between my arm and my body, leaning against his body to keep him from rolling over again...you know...as only an exhausted, full of love, wild-eyed, determined mother at 1am can... 

The monitor drinks from the pool of blood on his hand and gives up a number.

It is over.

I release him and his body goes immediately limp.  Completely oblivious to the battle it fought seconds before.

Nothing like a good wrestling match with your 5' foot 2" 11 year old son in the wee hours of the morning to get your blood flowing.

This has been my experience with B the last couple weeks.  I've changed lancets.   I've tried to wake him a bit before I tested...all to no avail.  He likes to mix it up though.  It doesn't happen every night.

Like J's night terrors, I am sure this is a phase that will pass.

Thankfully he doesn't remember in the morning that his mother had to body check him to the mattress just to get a blood sugar number.

Thankfully also, I see the humor in it all. 

The silver lining?  He's a fighter.  I'm totally cool with that.