Opening Day

Ten days ago, Joseph kicked off his second season playing little league baseball.



Another almost three months of afternoons and evenings at the ball park...

It'll be great-- but it's also gonna be really long.

Don't get me wrong. We all LOVE baseball. And it was a lot of fun last year.

But last year, Joseph was taking in a lot less insulin (8-9 units/day vs. the 15-19 units/day he takes now). What this means is that being disconnected from his pump -- which is what we did while he played last season -- may have a much greater impact on his blood sugars.

In the course of an hour and 45-minute game, he could go high-- very, very high.

Now, we could just have him wear his pump.

But this year he's playing at a level where kids pitch-- no more pitching machine. Thus, you tend to see many more kids getting hit by pitches. Also, because he's being active, we thought that bg checks and reconnecting for small corrections halfway through each game would work well. It did last year.

And you know, he really liked having that break from wearing the pump.

So how did we do on Opening Day?

Game time was 5:30 p.m.

An hour before, Joseph's bg was 199-- high, but not bad considering he hadn't eaten in awhile and he'd soon be active. Also, we planned to eat dinner later in order to avoid higher sugars during the game.

Ryan (who is the assistant coach this year) went to the park with Joseph, while I got Evan set to go. On arrival, Evan and I took a seat in the first row of the bleachers, right behind the first base line-- and about ten feet from our team's dugout. The boys crowded around the head coach to hear the lineup, as I called out to Ryan:

"Did he do a check?"

"Yeah, he was 86."

"What?!"

"He had two glucose tabs."

Immediately, my heart is beating fast.

86... 86... He was 199 an hour ago. That's over a hundred point drop...

"He's got to eat more. Give him some peanut butter crackers," I say, feeling incredibly helpless.

Ryan nods, and heads straight over to Joseph.

While his teammates gather their gloves, my son eats his snack.

Please let those crackers be enough.

Turns out, the head coach is putting Joseph in left field for the first two innings.

Good.

Though he loves to play catcher, (and will get his shot in the last two innings), he shouldn't be running around much out in left.

But it's so far away.

My heart aches as I watch him take the field.

Slow down... don't run so fast.

Over the next 45 minutes, the sun sits low in the sky-- as a result, I watch my son in the outfield with the side of my hand virtually glued to my forehead in a sort of desperate salute.

When Joseph finally comes up for his first at-bat, he draws a walk.

Thank you.

At 6:30 his bg has risen to 175, and the knot in my stomach finally begins to loosen. I relax and enjoy the rest of the game.

Sure, they lost-- and by the end, Joseph's bg was 200.

But by bedtime, he was 138.

So in my mind, we won.