My Mini Breakdown

Today I woke up hating diabetes.

I was up all night with the boys, all were super high. All went to bed with perfect numbers and then JUMPED up to completely random highness. (Steak and noodles for dinner…it made no sense.) Generally, lately, I can go back to sleep after testing, but not last night. Last night I was up for hours…thinking…stewing…

L’s teacher has been “concerned” about his blood sugar numbers lately. For the past 5 school days, for some reason, he is jumping to the high 300’s or 400’s at snack time. Problem is, he dives after snack so it’s a delicate situation to try to get him to a decent number at 10:30 without him going low before I pick him up. And since a different parent brings in snacks every day, I never know how to bolus his breakfast. (Uh uh,I can't bring him his own special snack, because to L that is just a cruel punishment.) So I’m figuring it out. And I’m inching closer to where I want him to be. But now L’s teacher wants to know what his BG number is at snack. Because she is “concerned.” Concerned about what? That he is neglected…that he is getting poor care? He hasn’t been acting out, he is (surprisingly) a wonderful student. Yesterday, when I came in after school, I spoke to her about trying to balance his boluses and the fact that I’m trying different things. “Good,” she says, “It’s really been on my mind lately.” (Great, I’m sorry to take up a small part of your brain to worry about my son. My ENTIRE brain worries 24/7 about him.) I told her I’ve tried one more thing to help him at snack, but he has an Endo appt in the city next week and hopefully they will be able to give me more insight. “Oh GOOD!!!” She exclaims.

Yup, I let her get to me. This woman is a sweet woman. I really like her. She is my friend. But I let her comments get to me. Do I know she is judging me? No. But when you are up all night with high sugars, and you are feeling like a loser…you feel like she is judging me.

So then L wakes up to a wet bed, and says, “don’t worry mom, I put a blanket under me and then I didn’t have to wake you up!” Sweet, sweet little boy, who wet his bed because of me, (well really because he was high..but that’s not my state of mind this morning.) By this time I’m oozing guilt out of my pores. I’m late making breakfast because I have to bathe L, and I have 15 minutes less to get ready because I am picking up M’s friends for school. I’m volunteering today in J’s and B’s classes and just before I head out the door, I check my blog dashboard to see if there are posts. And there are…and I started reading one…and then I had to stop.

My happy place suddenly became my hell. Tears come. I HATE diabetes! I am a failure! My kids, they don’t deserve this. They need a nurse 24/7, not stupid me! The boy’s endo appointments are next week and ALL their settings are TOTALLY out of control! Every one of them is having issues. I’m a failure. And again, I HATE DIABETES! If I have to look at the word diabetes one more time…I’ll scream!
So I stop reading…and I cry…and I bring my mascara to put on in the car before I get into school, because now it’s hopeless to even try.

And then I refill strips in each boy’s supply boxes at school. And I turn in doctors papers to the office to give to our school nurse. (Who’s only there Tuesday mornings.) And then I realize I forgot to take my TMJ pain meds. And then I help in classes. And then I get a call that L looks low. And I run…I run! Because I changed his settings yesterday and who knows what I will find. And he is 70. And J is 96 and B is 62. And I over did it because I let L’s teacher get to me. And I’m having a pity party…and I want to run away…

And then, as it always does, something happens to put my stupid life into perspective.

I find out that my friend at school is in the hospital. She was diagnosed with MS last year, and now last week was diagnosed with Leukemia. She is the hospital indefinitely…she is having chemo. Her husband was laid off last year. She is the bread winner. She probably needs a bone marrow transplant.

And the good Lord slaps me in the face again. Meri, your boys are at school. Playing…laughing. They have two healthy parents who love them. You are doing your best. You can’t do better than your best. Meri, you are an idiot. Slow down, you have a great life.

And then I come home and find the strength to read my blogs. And Wendy’s dear friend has passed away. She has left her family and her friends too early.

And I am here.

And I will be ok.

And my boys will be ok.

This craziness will pass, and we will be able to find the bolus and basal sweet spots for the boys.

So my pity party is over. I think I can go back to being positive again. I am recovering from my mini breakdown, and my husband got home early and gave me one of his famous bear hugs.

The peace is returning.