D Blog Week, Day 1: Dear Doctor

Huzza!  It is D Blog Week!  I, along with a ton of other Diabetes Bloggers will blog every day on a set grouping of topics that you can find HERE.  Todays topic is:

"Often our health care team only sees us for about 15 minutes several times a year, and they might not have a sense of what our lives are really like. Today, let’s pretend our medical team is reading our blogs. What do you wish they could see about your and/or your loved one's daily life with diabetes? On the other hand, what do you hope they don't see?"

I have a wonderful Endo, and a wonderful CDE.  They are kind to me, and honestly want to help a girl out whenever they can.  They also read this blog.

Shout out to my healthcare team!  W’sup?!

The boys’ Endo and I have a great mutual respect for one another.  I respect her opinion of the course of action we should take after the data is collected, and she respects when I’m not ready to make a change, or feel like a bigger change is needed.  It’s a wonderful, safe place for a worried D Mama. 

I do suffer from a bit of anxiety when appointment time comes due.  Three A1C’s is a big bag of bricks to carry on one mama’s shoulders.  Even though she never gives me a hard time…I’m hard on myself.  I know when I can do better, and I know when I’ve done so well there is just no way I can keep up the momentum. 

But what, if anything, do I want her to know?  I’m pretty open about things, and since she reads my blog…she usually knows when I’m in a good place, and when I am not.

I can’t say she doesn’t know this, but what I HOPE she knows is…

Dr. G, what I hope you know is…

* Every number has a story.

* And decisions that I make every day aren’t always black or white.  The other day one boy woke up at 489, and corrected himself before he told me the number.  When I pulled the set, there was blood in it.  But now he delivered a load of insulin.  Did he get any of it?  He’s just about to leave for school.  What would you do?  Would you have me stay home from work, and re-bolus the entire bolus?  Would you re-bolus and have me send him to school?  Would you have me give a couple extra units and hope it all works out?  I’m faced with these kinds of decisions almost every day.  It isn’t always check, count, bolus.  In fact it is rarely that simple.

* Humalog and Novolog aren’t exactly the same.  We made the switch as our insurance commanded, and now their numbers are running higher.  No, it isn’t my imagination.  Yes, it is frustrating.

* I have found more crazy issues in the middle of the night than I can wrap my brain around.  Ripped out sets.  Blood in sets.  Kinked sets.  An unexpected low.  An unexpected high.  When you tell parents they don’t have to do a late night check…I just want you to remember that.  Especially when you are me…I rarely, if ever, have a night when I don’t have to make a correction or feed a child.  Maybe my boys A1C’s are good because of the work I put in at night?  One day they will be on their own, and I will have years of a solid 7 hours sleep ahead.  (That’s my plan…and I’m pretending it’s going down that way.)  I’m not saying everyone needs to do a late night check, I’m just saying, let parents follow their gut.  They are surprisingly accurate.  (Also, since my alarm fatigue is so severe…I’ve been sleeping through my 2am alarm for months.  Their numbers in the morning aren’t always were they should be, and that dominos to the rest of the day.  I cannot discount the difference late night checks make.)

* The last thing I want you to know is how grateful I am for you.  I can’t remember the last time I said thank you.  For listening to me.  For caring about us.  For respecting my gut. 

What don’t I want you to know?  Something you already know.  I hate changing sets every three days, so sometimes...I go four.  I can’t properly explain WHY…but changing every three days makes me crazy.  There is a threshold there that when crossed brings me to the island of, “This is too much.”  I don’t know why three days seems SO much more overwhelming than four…but it’s a fact that for my swelly brain:  It is.  I make myself change at the three day mark, a lot.  But not all the time.  I’m not proud.  You already know.  But I’m baring my soul, so there it is in black and white.

Other than that secret shame, I want you to know that I know…we are a good team.  A good village.

Thank you for almost 15 years of unmatched care and love.  Here’s to many more healthy and successful years ahead! 

See you soon!