An Unexpected Treat

Yes, for a very long time I dreaded these.



And sadly -- for an equally long time -- Joseph came to expect my trepidation. Bracing himself, I'm sure, for the myriad questions that had to be asked before he could tuck in.

Yeah, those treats, especially the ones presented to my son when I wasn't there to actually see them. You know, to gauge the carbs based on size, thickness of the icing . . . those always threw me into a state of internal panic.

Well, what a difference almost a year and a half living with this disease can make.

Last Friday, Joseph called at the usual time to tell me his pre-lunch bg, and to confirm his post-meal bolus.

He was 158.

And his lunch carbs were 65 grams. School lunch that day was corn puppies, mixed vegetables, and fruit snacks.

Fruit snacks?

"Did you eat the fruit snacks?"

"Well, yeah mom, of course. Who wouldn't?"

"Okay bud, let's get that bolus on board."

As I was about to hang up, Joseph stopped me.

"Mom, wait! Sergio's dad brought in cake and ice cream for his birthday. We're gonna have it after lunch, at like one o'clock."

Huh.

"All right. Just look it over, and give me a call from the classroom."

No negotiating. No wondering if I should come up with an alternative.

30 minutes later . . .

"Okay mom, here's the deal. The cake slices aren't real big-- it's chocolate with chocolate frosting -- so I'm guessin' maybe 38 grams for the cake, cuz it's probably like a small cupcake. The ice cream is 16 grams a half cup. So that means we're up to 54 grams . . . mom, this is so great!"

"I'm sure it is, bud," I said, smiling. Only slightly anxious about what this treat will do to him.

Because as he's talking, factors are being accounted for in my head:

It's early yet. And, it's a beautiful day, so he'll have a longer afternoon recess; he's going to run some of this off.

That'll be good. Very good.

Though he's also just had a sizable lunch bolus, so we've got to watch the stacking that always seems to smack us when he boluses for carbs eaten on the heels of an earlier food bolus . . .

But my God, this is just wonderful for him.

"So, my bolus is 2.55. Should I go?"

Man, that's a lot of insulin on top of 3.1 units for lunch.

"Yes honey, go. But if you're feeling at all low, make sure you tell someone."

"Mom," he said, with a laugh, "I always do."

I could just see him shaking his head.

"Oh, hey mom, we're also having gummy worms."

Without hesitation, I look them up in the Calorie King, and give him carbs for the worms; he decides to devour three of them.

"This is a great day, mom!"

And just like that, he's back to the party.

You'd have thought it was his birthday.

Sounds like a wonderful story, right?

Well, I didn't have to wait long to see how we did . . .

At 2:15, the phone rings.

"Mom, I'm 49," Joseph says, in a clearly disappointed tone.

"Honey, it's okay. That was a pretty big bolus right after your lunch insulin. I'm not too surprised you're low. Just take 4 glucose tabs and we'll check again in 15 minutes. Do you feel all right?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just kinda mad."

Damn.

But then, 15 minutes later, Joseph was 88. And feeling much, much happier.

Of course there was a rebound later (into the 200s), but by dinner time, he was back on track.

And going to bed, he was 138.

Looking back at his afternoon sugars, this would not be one of his better days.

Not at all.

But if you asked Joseph about this day, he'd say it was perfect. Not simply because he got all those treats, but because he didn't have to be different.

As a longtime perfectionist, I would never have viewed that kind of day as anywhere near perfect.

But things change.

And because they do, my definition of a "good day" for my son has come to include those in which his bgs may not always be where we want them-- but he's happy, nonetheless.