Our D-history:

My daughter, *Rosie, was five years old when she was diagnosed on September 19, 2008, with Type I Diabetes. We started out on MDI, but in October 2010 we switched to a pump. We also added a Dexcom CGM in May of 2011. In February 2014 we changed to the Medtronic Enlite system- a pump and CGM all in one.

*Rosie is not her real name... I let her pick her own pseudonym for the blog!

Thursday, April 12, 2012

D-related career change?

So, I'm pondering changing careers.  I've been the Activity Director at a nursing home for nearly 17 years now, and while I love my residents, I can't shake this feeling that maybe I should be doing something else now.  That feeling, along with some difficult changes (ie: mandatory furlough) at my current job, have me doing some research into what else I might be able to do.

I figure since my brain is full of diabetes knowledge anyway, maybe this is where I need to look.  I've been looking into becoming a CDE.  I would have to go back to school, of course, but that part excites me. I always enjoyed the challenge in college.  (I have a BS in Art Therapy, minor in Gerontology... those don't help on the tracks to become CDE certified.)   I'm just not sure what I would do after I finished... not to mention that going back to school isn't exactly in our budget right now. 

Anyone d-parents out there making a living in a diabetes-related field?  (I do not want to be a nurse.)  I'm up for any suggestions or ideas!


Monday, April 9, 2012


She's not at home tonight.  Rosie and her brother are staying at my mother-in-law's house for a few nights this week over Spring Break.  My MIL used to babysit for another child with Type I, so she's comfortable with carb counting and such.   She doesn't know much about the pump, but as long as she helps Rosie carb count, Rosie can bolus herself.  They're only staying three days, so MIL won't have to deal with any site changes, as I changed one right before they left and will change it again as soon as they're home.    If anything crazy happens, they're only 45 minutes away, so I can get there fairly quickly.

Rosie will be fine. I am so used to being her full-time pancreas, that I tend to not trust anyone other than my husband to fill in for me.  My MIL is wonderful to take this on, and I know that, but I can't help but worry.   Last time Rosie stayed there MIL did a few things that I didn't like  (such as letting Rosie's brother have a cupcake but not letting Rosie eat one) and we've talked about these things since then.   It wasn't anything that hurt Rosie, it just wasn't the way I want things done. Yep, a bit of a d-control freak, that's me.

Rosie will be fine.  Someone keep reminding me of that, please? 


Saturday, April 7, 2012

Nasty Low, Aisle Six

To passers-by, she probably looked like a bored or pouting child, sitting there staring straight ahead and clutching a giant bottle of soda.   To me, she looked like a sick kid fighting back tears and fighting to stay focused on the moment.

We were in the store about an hour when it hit: a bad low.   The kind that comes out of nowhere and causes Rosie's eyes to be "fuzzy" in a matter of seconds.  She went from chatting and laughing to the verge of tears in about 30 seconds.  Her Dex showed her in the 70's and dropping, but she told me she knew she was already lower than that.  I normally have glucose in my purse, but I was out-- in fact, there was a bottle at the bottom of our cart waiting to be purchased.  The lines at the check-outs were insanely long. 

I decided to buy Rosie a soda through the self-check lanes (which had the shortest lines) and have her sit by the nail salon until I could join her.  I abandoned my cart, rushed through the self-check line, and settled Rosie in with her bottle of soda.  She took several big swigs and sat, staring blankly ahead.  I asked her if she'd be ok if I went and got in line, and she said yes.   I could see her from my place in line, but she wasn't seeing me-- she had that "zombie stare" that she gets when she's really out of it.  I don't think a wait in line has ever seemed so long to me.

I finally get through the line, rush over to Rosie, and sit down next to her.  She immediately tries to crawl in my lap- a sure sign that she's feeling rotten.   We sit together and watch the crowd for a while, until she feels strong enough to walk to the car.   We make the ten minute drive home and within half an hour she's ready to go play outside with her friends, like nothing ever happened.

There's nothing I hate more than these crazy, out-of-nowhere lows.  She feels rotten, and I feel so helpless.  What would have been a routine shopping trip for anyone else was turned into a near-emergency situation, and I doubt that most people around us had any clue that anything was wrong.