We live in a new state.
Diabetes followed us.
We bought a new house.
Diabetes lives here.
The boys go to new schools.
Diabetes attends there.
We sleep in new beds.
Diabetes sleeps with us.
Diabetes makes sure that we can’t have a completely new
start. It acts as though part of the family. Deserving of our attention,
needing to be nurtured and fed.
Diabetes hasn’t been acting up, but it’s been quietly
defiant. The boys pretend it didn’t move
with us, it’s been up to me to constantly remind them it is there.
“Have you checked your sugar?”
“Have you bolused?”
“Have you checked your sugar?”
“How many carbs are you going to bolus for that?”
“Did you have a snack before PE?”
“Have you bolused?”
“Bring a snack in your backpack.”
“Have you checked your sugar?”
“Have you checked your sugar?”
“Have you checked your sugar?”
“Check your sugar!”
My writing is limited as they marinate in their teenage
years. But let this be known: Teenagers need more reminding than children. Ok. To be fair: MY teenagers need more
reminding than children.
Riddle: Three boys began eating their breakfasts this
morning…did they check their sugar before?
No.
Why?
Because I didn’t tell them to.
Diabetes is this monkey on their back that “ooo-ooo-ooo’s”
in their ears all day, but they are able to tune it out.
Somehow they can tune it out.
Diabetes lives here. It sleeps here, and I make sure it
doesn’t go off the deep end.
I quiet it.
I acknowledge its existence.
I sing it lullabies at the 1am check.
I make sure it doesn’t feel neglected. That it’s still part
of the family even though it isn’t wanted.
I’m its friend.
My boys give it enough attention to stay alive. I give it
enough attention so they can thrive.
At this very moment the boys are at school, but somehow
diabetes has found a way to go with them and stay here with me too.
Empty juice boxes from last nights check.
Sharps on B’s desk that need to be disposed of.
Test strips on J’s nightstand.
A bag of L’s emergency school supplies waiting to be
delivered on the counter.
We live in a new state.
Diabetes followed us.
We bought a new house.
Diabetes lives here.
The boys go to new schools.
Diabetes attends there.
We sleep in new beds.
Diabetes sleeps with us.
Diabetes sleeps with us.
Yes, teenagers are worse than toddlers lol.
ReplyDeleteLove this! I sure wish I knew how to tune it out. Sometimes the monkey on my back screams even louder when she's at school. P.S. please don't scare me about the teenage years ;)
ReplyDelete