Let's Not Forget Diabetes Camp

Taking a seat in the common room, opposite Joseph's cabin nurse -- a woman with wavy brown hair who looks to be about my age -- I'm not nervous at all.

Determined, is more like it.

We start out talking about basal rates and insulin-to-carb ratios; corrections and the timing of set changes.

And then, I take a deep breath.

"Now, I'm sure you're aware that Joseph needs to be checked at both midnight and 2am. I spoke with the camp director about this a couple of months ago. Also, Joseph's endocrinologist sent a letter outlining the reasons why he needs to be checked... "

Her head tilts to one side; her mouth opens slightly.

And then-- a look of confusion.

"Did you see the letter from his doctor?" I ask.

"No, I didn't... but we can see how he's doing," she says with a pleasant smile, "I'm sure the camp doctor will be able to- "

"I'm afraid that's not gonna work-- you see, each of the last three years
I was assured that Joseph would be checked. And each year that hasn't happened. When I asked about this last year, I was told that the camp doctor overrode my son's doctor's orders because Joseph's blood sugars were 'in range' before he went to bed."

"Well, that's a good indication of- "

"No, I'm afraid it's not. At Joseph's last office visit his endocrinologist said specifically that if Joseph isn't checked overnight at camp he will have a seizure."

"I'm sure he would wake up- "

"Two nights ago, my son went to bed with an 'in-range' BG-- four hours later he was 52. We fed him glucose tablets and a snack-- he slept through it all."

"Oh... well that's... unusual. But I'm sure it's something he'll outgrow-- I mean once he's through puberty."

"I hope you're right-- but in the meantime, he needs to be checked."

An awkward silence, and then...

"Maybe you should speak with the camp doctor about this."

"I would absolutely love to speak with the camp doctor."

Minutes later, the endocrinologist responsible for the camp steps into the cabin. And before I can say anything, he tells me that the camp director spoke with him about Joseph earlier this morning.

"That's great," I say. And then I proceed to reiterate exactly why Joseph needs these overnight checks.

"We can certainly check him." he says. "A lot of parents make this request and it's just not necessary."

Huh.

"Can you tell me-- did you receive a letter from Joseph's doctor?" I ask him.

"No, I don't recall seeing one."

Hmmm.

"But testing his blood sugar shouldn't be a problem," the doc continues, "our people will be doing rounds at midnight and 2am anyway."

And with those words -- finally -- I know that Joseph will be okay.

Before leaving the room, I shake the doctor's hand-- and thank him and the nurse for helping to keep our son safe, emphasizing how much coming to this camp means to him.

I then make my way down down the hall to the next room-- where Ryan stands watching Joseph unpack his duffel.

Already the kid is yuckin' it up with his counselor and some of the other boys-- every once in a while looking over at the door to see if Tommy has arrived.

"Well-- he's all set," I tell Ryan.

He turns and gives me a questioning look-- to which I respond with a smile and a nod.

"Hey Bud," I call out, "we're leaving-- is that all right?"

"Yeah, sure-- I'll see you Friday," he calls back without looking up.

But immediately after we leave the room, Joseph leaps out into the hallway and gives us both a huge hug.

"Thanks, Bud," I say.

"Mom, this year's gonna be great, I just know it," he says with a grin that slays me.

"Oh yes, I know it too."

Getting Caught Up

So yes, I really am back.

Honest.

I'm just trying to figure out where to start.

You see, part of me feels that by writing about the present, I'm giving short shrift to the best summer we've had in years.

I never wrote about all the summer baseball-- or those 15 amazing days out east bonding with my siblings and their kids.

Or the swimming, fishing, and quirky fun we had in northern Wisconsin with friends.

I never even mentioned the wonderful (but way too short) visit from Zachary.

Soooo... in an effort to clear the deck, here's a three minute taste of what you missed:

Gone So Long

First.

I am so sorry to have left you all hanging-- we're here, and we're fine.

I think.

So much has happened since my last post, I don't quite know where to start.

I guess an explanation for the silence might be the best place.

Now, I could just say I haven't posted because we've been busy -- DANG busy -- with multiple trips out of town, beautiful weather, preparations for school...

All true.

But that's not the only thing that's kept me away.

Bottom line, I just couldn't bring myself to write.

And for a a while now, I didn't know why.

Until this morning -- after walking Evan to school (yes, you read that right-- Evan. To school.) -- I started thinking about the blog, and the word "fear" came to mind.

Why?

Because I haven't kept Joseph's blood sugars remotely stable all summer.

Because, as a result, his A1c jumped back up-- this time to its highest since diagnosis.

8.6

And finally, because I haven't had the strength to talk about it here.

It's ironic, really.

For despite a somewhat rocky start, this was probably the best summer we've had since Joseph's diagnosis: countless baseball games; trips to see family, friends; an amazing week of diabetes camp for Joseph, "Gramma" camp for Evan, and "Parent" camp for me and Ryan.

And through it all, Joseph grew. A lot.

(Criminy, he's almost as tall as me!)

But the fear, that all this fun was coming at a cost, also grew.

Don't get me wrong-- we didn't ignore the diabetes. No. We tried to get some semblance of control.

But it was impossible.

You see, it wasn't that we weren't logging, it was that so much changed so fast -- virtually day-to-day -- that we couldn't make sense of the data.

Well, summer's over.

Time to get back to work.

(And hopefully, back to the blog as well.)

Another Update

They're home.

Thank. God.

Half an hour before they got in, I called Ryan's cell phone yet again to see how close they were to home-- I was petrified because the news had said sections of I-94 between here and the Dells were closed due to flooding.

They'd warned that road conditions were "extremely dangerous."

Ryan's cell didn't answer, so I left a message.

I tried again.

Several times.

I called Joseph's cell phone.

Still no answer.

By the time they finally walked through the front door I was a basket case.

Apparently, Joseph's phone had died, and he'd been using Ryan's cell phone to take photos of the flooding they saw-- sections of the highway were literally under water.

Christ.

But they're home safe, and the tornado warning has finally been lifted (though we're still under a tornado "watch" until 2am).

It's storming like bejeezus out there-- heavy rain, thunder, lightning, the works.

But we're all fine.

And if I get the chance tomorrow, I'll share details of the actual field trip.

An Update

I'm sitting in my basement with Evan.

The tornado siren went off about 45 minutes ago; there've been at least three confirmed touch downs in the area.

Along with "hen's egg" sized hail, torrential rains, and 80 mile an hour winds.

According to the news, at least three more "tornadic" storm cells are heading toward us.

Right now, Ryan and Joseph are on the interstate just outside of the Dells -- driving less than five miles an hour -- heading right into this.

I can't even think straight.

The Mega Park

He's gonna be fine.

That's what I keep telling myself, over and over.

He'll have a blast.

But, I can't get rid of the gnawing in my stomach-- and I cannot stop thinking about all the things that could go wrong.

What if he's low while he's at the top of a rollercoaster?

That place is so big-- what if he can't find Ryan?

They'll be in the Dells, where a storm is headed-- where there'd been massive flooding over the weekend.

"Sandra, it's gonna be great. Just relax," Ryan tells me this morning as I begin spewing out some of these fears.

But I can't relax.

Since first hearing of this end-of-school-year field trip, I've been quietly fretting.

A mega indoor/outdoor water and theme park-- over an hour away...

Jam packed with middle-schoolers from all over the state.

My heart is in my throat just thinking about it.

"What will you do if you're in a long line and feel low?" I ask Joseph over breakfast.

"I'll take some glucose and go check in with Dad," he responds in a matter-of-fact tone.

"But who will go with you?" I continue-- struggling to keep the tension out of my voice.

"Probably one of my friends."

"Probably? Bud, you have to make sure someone goes with you-- that park is huge."

"Mom, Mom- stop worrying. Geez, I'm gonna be okay. You're driving me crazy."

So I back off.

Before they leave, Ryan and I discuss how much we should lower Joseph's basal rates while he's running around the park, while he's swimming...

When we're finished I just sit in my chair, quietly staring down at my hands-- until I can't keep it in any longer.

"You know, if he didn't have diabetes, I wouldn't be freaked out at all. I loved amusement parks as a kid. I just- "

"A lot of things would be easier if he didn't have diabetes," Ryan says--and then adds with a shrug, "but it is what it is."

He picks up the black backpack, his duffel-- and walks out the door.

Sitting here now -- listening to the rumble of thunder -- all I can think is how very long this day is gonna be.

Random Stuff

Okay, seems I've been tagged for a meme by Penny and Lisa, and (as usual) am very late getting to it.

(Sorry, ladies.)

The rules are as follows:

I must write a post listing 10 weird, random, facts, habits or goals about myself then choose six people to be tagged, list their names and why I tagged them.

All righty, then-- here we go:

#1. I'm the last to finish eating at every meal-- even if I don't do any talking.

I eat that slow.

#2. One of my baby teeth didn't fall out until my senior year in high school.

#3. My idea of fun is working through some form of creative challenge.

Case in point:

A number of months ago, I read several books about HTML, XHTML and CSS, then created at least half a dozen Blogger blogs for the sole purpose of messin' with the template designs...

(Yee hah!)

#4. Even though I'm gonna have a ton more time for myself when Evan starts kindergarten in the fall, I'm already missing her...

#5. I never learned how to play a musical instrument... in an effort to rectify this, I'm in the process of teaching myself how to play the piano using the Sudnow Method.

(If you're ever out my way, just ask me to play "Misty" for you... )

#6. Though reasonably intelligent, I've been known to experience moments of extreme stupidity.

For example:

A few years ago -- while sitting upstairs nursing Evan -- I heard a loud siren. I remember thinking:

What an odd time for a drill.

No one downstairs had heard the siren (music was playing on the stereo at the time), and when I came down for dinner -- despite looking out the kitchen window and noticing that the the sky was an odd shade of green -- I didn't say anything about the siren I'd heard.

(I was pretty sleep deprived at the time-- Evan was teething, you see.)

Anyhow, minutes later I sat down to dinner with Ryan, one of my sisters, her husband and our kids.

The lights flickered off and on a few times as we ate; hard rain pounded the skylights above us-- and for a minute, we heard what sounded like a freight train rumbling past.

"It must be hail," I'd said.

Uh huh.

Less than an hour later, we discovered that a tornado had ripped through our neighborhood.



It had been on our street.



Just six houses from our own.



#7. I'm the only member of my very large family to move out of New England.

(And after the above experience, I've begun to question this decision.)

#8. June 5th was my 15-year wedding anniversary...


... August 23rd will mark the 22nd anniversary of the day Ryan and I met.

And, folks.

I am still crazy about the man.



#9. While writing is one of the most satisfying -- and at times, easiest -- things I do, settling down (both physically and mentally) to write is one of the hardest.

#10. Last year, a local ice cream shop introduced a flavor called "Hot Chocolate."

Deep, dark "Zanzibar" chocolate, laced with cayenne.

Can't. Stay. Away....

As far as tagging others, I'm so very late here that I'm gonna tag anyone who reads this and hasn't done it!