Two Steps Forward...

Well, I had that little chat with Joseph's teacher.

I let him know how much we appreciate his willingness to work with us, and then went on to raise the points I made both in my previous post, and much of what appears in the comments to that post.

After determining that Mr. S. had no idea what Joseph's blood sugar had been just 10 minutes after his spelling test, I told him that Joseph was 56.

"Oh," he said quietly. "You know, when I think back, I should have known that something was wrong. I'm very sorry."

We talked of how to handle things in the future. Of how it would be wise to have Joseph check his blood sugar if he suddenly acts out of character.

Mr. S. requested more information about the behaviors that might indicate a low blood sugar.

I shared those ways I've been able (most of the time) to see a low coming on. Then I promised to forward websites; even try to arrange a meeting for him with a diabetes educator. If those things would help him to understand.

By the end of our conversation, Mr. S. sounded mighty sheepish about how he'd handled things, and seemed to want very much to learn how he could make Joseph feel more supported in the classroom (yes, I did bring up the point about how Joseph may not be liking school as much because he is feeling alone in his diabetes care. Mr. S. admitted that he rarely asks Joseph about his blood sugar, even when he's tested low or high).

The discussion seemed to be a success, right?

Then why do I feel so shitty about it?

I think that Kerri's comment on my previous post hits it right on the head. She tells of how she's "always found it very frustrating when people would assume [her] "outburst" behavior was always blood-sugar related."

This is precisely the issue that troubles me most about all of this-- trying to distinguish between just plain kid behavior, and something that is blood-sugar related, without making my son feel different -- or worse -- every time we try to make that distinction.

I can't imagine what this must be like ALL of the time for the person with diabetes; however, I do know that I hate when there is even a hint of a suggestion that my own emotional outbursts might be PMS-related (yes, sometimes they are, but not always).

And to me, that suggestion invalidates the feelings I'm experiencing in that moment.

Driving home with Joseph from school on Wednesday afternoon, I mentioned that Mr. S. might ask him to check his sugar if he thinks he might be low.

"Why mom? Why does he have to do that? He'll make me check my sugar all the time now."

As he spoke, the pain in his voice was unmistakable.

Looking in the rearview, I watched my son as he grew quiet. Leaning back in his seat, his head turned toward the window.

An expression of immense sadness on his face.

I don't know. I really don't know the right answer.