I don’t usually post about teenager stuff, but this post is
written with permission by my 13 year old.
When you read it, you’ll see why.
Saturday morning I was woken up by said 13 year old. He had
filled his reservoir and asked if I’d be willing to pop his set in. He’s not a
big fan of the “popping it in” part, and insists it doesn’t hurt as much when I
do it. When I’m not around, he does it…but it was Saturday, so…of course.
I was not quite awake, but I cleared my fuzzy brain best I
could and popped it in whilst still lying down.
I could see the relief on his face. “Wow. That was a really
good one!”
After this he went to eat breakfast.
The following is a transcript of what transpired next:
“Why the two arrows up on the Dex? Did you bolus for
breakfast?”
“Yes, Mommm! I bolused!”
An hour later.
“Kid. Still two arrows up and now you’re in the high 300’s.”
“Do you want to check my history? I bolused! And I bolused
BEFORE I ate.”
“Well, give yourself a couple extra units. Maybe you didn’t
bolus enough.”
"I'll give myself four extra units. Chances are good I'll eat a granola bar soon."
"I'll give myself four extra units. Chances are good I'll eat a granola bar soon."
An hour later his Dex said “High” with an arrow up.
"Did you eat a granola bar?"
"Nope."
"Did you eat anything other than breakfast this morning?"
"Nope."
"Did you eat a granola bar?"
"Nope."
"Did you eat anything other than breakfast this morning?"
"Nope."
“Did you bolus for breakfast before or after the set
change.”
“After.”
“When I popped your set in, you looked really happy. Did you
even feel it?”
“No. It was amazing," he said whistfully.
“We’re going to have to put in a new set. This one must be
kinked.” I began to get up off the couch when I felt him grab my hand.
With both his hands cradling mine, he looked hopefully into my eyes...
With both his hands cradling mine, he looked hopefully into my eyes...
“Mom. Listen. That was the best set-change in three months.
Please don’t take that away from me...”
“And that’s why it has to be changed. It probably isn’t
good. You’re over 400.”
I don't look back but I feel the twang of a glare hitting me in the back of my head.
I insert another set and gently peel back the old one to see
if it was bad.
It was perfect.
“Crap.”
“NOOOOO! I can’t believe it. I knew it was good! Oh my gosh.
Apology. I think this deserves an apology.”
“Not so fast. This still doesn’t explain why you’re going so
high. Why did you change your set so early this morning? Was it low reservoir,
or out of insulin?”
“It didn’t SAY ‘no insulin.’ You know, with words.”
“How many units did you have left?”
Silence.
“It said ‘- - -‘ didn’t it.”
“Yes. It did.”
“Why didn’t you change your set when you got the low
reservoir alarm?”
“Mom. It was Midnight! I was tired! Besides, it said I had 2.9 units left.”
“Dude. Your basal rate would eat that up in an hour and a
half.”
“12 units? Really??!”
“You said 2.9 and now you’re saying 12.”
“It’s all the same.”
“Do you know what your basal rates are? Do you even know
what a basal rate is? Your pump gives insulin even when you don’t push buttons.
If there is no insulin to give, you get ketones….OH MY GOSH. You probably have
ketones! That explains it!”
“I know what basal is, and I don’t have ketones.” (eye roll)
“Oh. We’re checking!”
As I take out the Blood Ketone Monitor he says,” This is a
waste of a ketone strip. It’s going to say I’m 0.2”
“Oh, we will see!”
We watch the monitor count down, and at the end of it? 0.2
“Crap! I mean, Awesome!”
“Apology. I want an apology!”
“DUDE. I want an apology! You didn’t change your set last
night when it said Low Reservoir!”
“IT. Was. MIDNIGHT. I was really tired.”
“You know I’m going to blog this right. This is blogging
gold.”
“Go ahead. I was tired. Is that a crime?”
“You can’t live without insulin, kid. Diabetes doesn’t get
tucked in at midnight. It devours insulin 24/7. Diabetes doesn’t sleep!”
“I’ll apologize if you apologize. You took out the perfect
set.”
“If you want me to apologize for being an awesome D Mom,
then yes, I apologize.”
“It didn’t need to be changed! You need to apologize for
changing it!”
“I did what I had to do. I was trying to keep you safe. I
won’t apologize for it. You on the other hand…”
“I had 2.9 units! There was insulin in my pump when I went
to sleep!”
“GIVE. ME. YOUR. PUMP.”
He hands it over defiantly.
“Your basal rate right now is 1.65 from midnight to 4am, and
1.85 from 4am to 9am. Puberty demands a ton of insulin. Now lets do the math.
1.65 units for three hours is 4.95 units of insulin. Add that to the next five
hours at 1.85 per hour and that is 14.2 units of insulin needed while you slept
last night. Take away the 2.9 you said was left, that means there was 11.3
units that was not delivered that your body needed.”
There is a long thoughtful pause, and then he says with a
far off look in his eyes, “Whoa. It’s official. I’m a teenager.”
He threw himself into my arms and gave me a long hug. "I'm sorry mom."
I
whispered into his ear. “I’m still blogging this.”
He whispers back. “I know.”
