tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-191287012024-03-07T01:16:47.459-05:00My son has diabetes" Not everything that counts can be counted. Not everything that can be counted counts."Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.comBlogger480125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-65297844462450466182015-10-06T12:06:00.001-04:002015-10-06T12:06:06.395-04:0010 Years Ago TodayThis morning as I was pouring my first cup of coffee I had the thought that 10 years ago today at that time I had no clue what was to come. I had no clue the tears and the sleepless nights that would follow. I didn't know then that my son's life would forever be altered.<br />
<br />
10 years ago was a blur of wet bed sheets, begging for water, a "HI" on the blood sugar machine, teeny tiny fingers oozing drops of blood, a hospital room, IVs and bubbles, salty tears and the smell of band aides. I will never, ever forget that day for as long as I live. Every year I think the anniversary won't evoke too many feelings. And, every year it does.<br />
<br />
Back then, Riley was a little thing. Each blood sugar check evoked much curiosity as he looked on in fascination at the blood oozing from his little finger. Now, he's only an inch shorter than me and blood sugar checks occur while he carries on a conversation with his friends, barely even glancing at his finger in the process.<br />
<br />
Back then, he ran from us when we tried to give him insulin. Now, he receives his insulin via a pump but bemoans his sensor change for about 30 minutes before finally relenting and bracing himself for the needle stick. Then, we were checking his sugar upwards of 15 times a day. He had no sense of being low. Now, he checks 2 times a day and his wonderful super-fantastical Dexcom (WSFD) does the rest. Then, I was up many times during the night and walked around like a zombie all day. Now, his WSFD alerts me of lows and highs and I sleep through the night almost every single night and feel like a human again.<br />
<br />
Lots has changed since that day 10 years ago. But, one things still remains. An insidious disease resides in my little man's body. It dictates moods and eating habits. It attends all birthdays and holiday functions. It rears it's ugly head in the middle of sleep and soccer games. It lulls you into thinking all is well only to strike out with no notice. That will never change.<br />
<br />
Diabetes will go off to college with him. It will be at the altar on his wedding day and in the birthing room when he hears his child's first cry. But, it will not taint those days because he won't let it. He will revel in the freedom and scariness of being on his own for the first time. He will stand in awe as he looks at his beautiful bride walking toward him down the isle. He will count each little finger and toe and wonder at the sweetness he had a hand in making.<br />
<br />
Today, I am thankful for a happy, healthy Riley. I am thankful for all the advances made in diabetes care over the past decade and for more to come. I am thankful that even though diabetes is a part of his life, it will never BE his life. I am thankful, so, so, thankful that I get to be his mom. All of that trumps diabetes every single time. And it always will. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-90003729192938156172014-07-21T14:50:00.005-04:002014-07-21T14:57:36.498-04:00Hope Springs Eternal<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">While sitting
on the couch last night taking a break from the movie we were watching I
decided to click on Facebook to pass the time.
I saw a post by a fellow D dad. His son
and Riley are very close in age and dealing with the same all-consuming stupid
disease that is Type 1 diabetes. We’ve
been “friends” for years. I know little
about him. But, the only thing I really
need to know is that he hates Type 1 diabetes as much as I do. And, he has the same ache in his heart for
his son that I have for mine. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I clicked on <a href="http://youtu.be/06rpdVs0okE">this video</a>. I knew it was about the
clinical trials being done now to test the bionic pancreas. I’ve been reading some about it. Just the other day I found out one of the
participants is a little girl whose mom has a <a href="http://www.deathofapancreas.com/2014/07/who-has-two-thumbs-and-bionic-pancreas.html">blog </a>I used to read. She was just one year old when her pancreas
decided a permanent strike was in order.
I was so happy for her and for her family. I also thought how great it would be for
Riley if this artificial pancreas thing pans out. And, then I promptly put it out of my
mind. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Like I said,
I knew it was going on. But, I’d kept
myself on the fringes of it. I knew
about it but I didn’t really want to KNOW about it; didn’t want to get too close
to it. I didn’t even realize that’s what
I was doing until last night. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The video
began innocently enough. I was
watching. They were explaining what Type
1 diabetes is and how they were able to fund this trial. They show the kids running around, splashing
in the mud, playing games all while grinning from ear to ear. I felt a little lump forming in my
throat and the sting of salt water behind my eyes. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Then, it
got to a part where they show a group of girls sitting around a table. The camp counselor is explaining that 8 of
the girls will be on the bionic pancreas for the next 5 days. And, during those days their diabetes will be
cared for exclusively by this little medical device. That means there will be no sugar checking,
no carb counting, no activity restrictions, no middle of the night sugar
checks; you know, those things all the rest of us take for granted every
day. There was clapping and a countdown
and smiles all around. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And, then I
lost it. I started bawling like a baby. I was overcome with emotion that this is
going on, that this is REALLY happening.
This isn’t some far off in the future, maybe-one-day-we-can-hope-for-this-kind-of-thing that we diabetes parents are used to. We’re used to hearing “this might be possible
one day” or “whenever we can get enough funding”. But, “Hey, look, this wonderful awesome thing
that will benefit your child, it has come to fruition and we’re getting to test
it and the findings so far have been great.”? Yeah, we don’t hear that too much. Like, not at all. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">After the
video was over, I sniffed for a while and wiped my eyes and got my emotions
under control and went back to watching the movie. But, something felt different.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Today, I
watched the video again, this time with Riley sitting by my side watching it
with me. Out of the corner of my eyes I
watched as a grin spread across his face as he took it all in. When the guy said that the device would do
all the work, Riley turned to me, his grin widening and said: “That means you wouldn’t have to get up in
the middle of the night and check my sugars anymore.” <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Really? That’s his first thought? Not, “Yay me!
No more sugar checks, no more carb counting, no more having to factor
this in to soccer practice.” No. His first thought was for me. I wish I could take the credit for how
awesome he is.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Of course,
by the end of the video I was bawling again.
Riley looked at me in that pre-teen my-mom-is-crazy way and galloped off
to his room to build worlds and mazes on his computer.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I sat there,
a familiar feeling in my chest. It took
a moment for it to register what it was.
It was like a scent you catch on the breeze and it makes your stomach
flutter but you’re not quite sure why. Then,
it dawned on me what it was. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Hope. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It was hope.
<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Hope that
one day Riley really will be able to just live his life without giving thought
to whether what he is doing or eating may affect his blood sugar. Hope that when he goes off to college I won’t
be up at night wondering if he’s up at night checking his sugar. Hope that when his first child is born or he’s
standing at the altar waiting for his bride to walk in that diabetes will be
the furthest thing from his mind. Because,
he won’t have to think about it anymore.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I don’t know
when I pushed hope to the background. I
don’t think I ever gave up hope. But, somewhere
along the way I gave up hope on hoping. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">How did that
happen? Hope has been my mantra almost
from the moment Riley was diagnosed 8 years, 9 months, 15 days, and 2 hours
ago. I even have the word “hope” emblazoned
just under my left collarbone. A
reminder that no matter what, all is never lost.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I realized I
had given up hope on hoping for one simple reason: what if it never happens?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But today,
instead, I’m thinking: what if it does?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Oh. My.
God.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What if it does?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-37331760250426400392014-01-14T11:34:00.002-05:002014-01-14T11:34:58.684-05:00Type 1 Diabetes Invades Another Home<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was sitting in the gym early Saturday morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While waiting for Riley’s basketball game to
start I got on Facebook on my phone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
had a message.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I checked it, it
felt like my heart immediately sank into my stomach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The message relayed that a girl that I’ve
known all her life, a little girl the same age as Riley, was just diagnosed
with Type 1 diabetes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Immediately upon
reading it tears stung my eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I spent the rest of the day reliving<a href="http://threeyearsfree.blogspot.com/2005/11/october-6-2005.html"> the day Riley was diagnosed</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Little images would flash
through my mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought of that
morning at home, checking his sugar because I knew something just wasn’t
right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember gasping when the meter
flashed “HI” instead of a number.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
remember running around in a fog trying to get things together to take with
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew, knew deep down, what was
wrong and I knew he’d be admitted to the hospital.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember throwing his sheets in the washer
before leaving, because he had, yet again, wet them during the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(A sign of high sugars.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember berating myself over and over for
letting him have a pop tart and apple juice for breakfast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Saturday night, in the middle of the night, each time I got
up to check Riley’s sugars, the girl and her parents would come to mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each time I silently said a prayer for
them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They came to mind off and on the
next day too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Last night, I missed a phone call.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I checked my messages I heard the voice
of the girl’s grandfather.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said he
was just calling to check and see if I had the same number so he could pass it
along to the girl’s mother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was glad
he was doing that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am more than happy
to offer support.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Again, a flood of emotions rushed in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I kept thinking of the girl’s mother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I kept wondering what I would say to her and
if I’d even be able to say anything at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Every time I thought of it, I would start to cry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I completed some chores and then I ran a nice, hot bubble
bath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sat in the tub as tears streamed
down my face and made tunnels in the bubbles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I ached, actually ached, for this girl and her parents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again, old emotions surfaced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Emotions of guilt for not realizing Riley’s
symptoms sooner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Feelings of guilt for
passing along faulty genes to him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But,
mostly, I remembered the feeling of complete and utter helplessness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remembered wanting to “fix” my child, my
baby, and being completely helpless to do so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I remembered crying and screaming at God to take it away from Riley and
give it to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remembered hour upon
hour just sitting on the couch in a fog watching Riley play and run around
looking for any sign of a low.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remembered
staring at the clock, consuming myself with when it would be time to check his
sugar again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remembered chasing Riley
around the house to hold him down to give him a shot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remembered the feelings brought up from
hurting my child to help him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When I got out of the tub I thought about writing this
post.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then, I decided maybe I should
wait.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My emotions were too high and I
knew it would be nothing but a downer post.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Things look and feel different in the light of a new day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I needed to feel what I felt and I needed
time to process it so I could move on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The thing it all comes down to is this:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Type 1 diabetes sucks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It sucks big time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no, ifs, and, or buts about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once this disease invades your house, your
life and the life of your child will never, ever be the same again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Type 1 diabetes is like an uninvited house
guest that no matter how hard you try to ignore will just not go away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It comes in and changes the whole
atmosphere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It changes how and when you
eat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It changes how and when you
sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It doesn’t leave and give you
some space to just enjoy birthdays or holidays.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Nope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s always there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Always lurking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Always, always, always demanding
attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">BUT, everything is going to be OK.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This girl will be OK.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’s smart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She’s an athlete.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She has a great
support system.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her parents will be
OK.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They will learn, by trial and error,
what works for their daughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This girl will go on to do and be whatever she wants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Diabetes will not stop her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Diabetes will not define her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In the light of day, I see that now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My mind knows it to be true.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Intellectually, I know that everything will be fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, my Mama-heart aches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It knows the pain and the sleepless
nights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, while I know that life will
eventually be a new normal for this family, my heart aches for all that it
takes and will always take to make that new normal happen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-31458948936120129012013-09-26T12:03:00.002-04:002013-09-26T12:03:51.380-04:00Diabetes is Sneaky
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Riley’s 8 year diaversary is coming up next week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>8 years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Wow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s hard to believe we’ve
been doing this for 8 years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also, it’s
hard to believe we ever lived a life where we didn’t do this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Riley is 11 now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s
at an age where the majority of diabetes things fall in his lap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no nurse at his school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is solely responsible for caring for his
sugars while he is there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some days it
is hit and miss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some days he forgets to
check his sugars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some days he forgets
to bolus for food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, some days, he’s
just plain sick of it and ignores it all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Figuring out how to “punish” him is difficult.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On one hand, isn’t diabetes and all the crap
that comes along with it punishment enough?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But, on the other hand, this is his health and well-being we are talking
about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want him to live to a ripe old
age and enjoy his grandbabies, free from complications from this stupid
disease.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I muddle through the murky waters
the best I know how.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some days I think I
get it right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most days, I think I don’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Currently, he is grounded, not for not bolusing,
but for adamantly lying to me about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Which brings into play, why is he lying about it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Am I too hard on him?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Blah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Murky
waters indeed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">You would think after 8 years the ins and outs of daily
diabetes care wouldn’t affect me anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But, it does.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not anywhere like
it used to but it still affects me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There are nights when I prick his finger at 3 AM to check his sugar that
I think how wrong it is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How there is no
way I should be sticking my child with a needle several times a day and not
give it a second thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a
day not too long ago when I picked up his set and hurled it across the
room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had just changed his needle and
seeing his set sitting on the bed next to me angered me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just couldn’t stand to look at it any
longer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I guess the biggest difference between now and 8 or even 6
or 7 years ago is when it affects me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When Riley was first diagnosed, and several years thereafter, diabetes
inundated my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It filled up every
single aspect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It affected my emotions,
my sleep, almost every thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, it
sneaks up on me when I’m least expecting it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Yesterday, little man and I were sitting on the couch
watching a TV show, The Little Couple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They recently adopted a little boy from China.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On this episode he was having surgery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were talking about how hard it was to
have him go into surgery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The father
said how he had burst into tears a few days earlier while thinking about it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This prompted Riley to turn to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Mom, did you cry when I was put in the
hospital when I got diabetes? “<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just
looked at him and said:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cried every single day for a long time.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Did Dad cry?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I’m sure he did baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But, not in front in me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think
he was probably trying to be strong for Mommy. I know Holden cried.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sure we all cried.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone cried except him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He never shed one tear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not even when they started his IV.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">At that moment I turned and looked at him and his big
beautiful brown eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The thoughts of
waking up next to him in the hospital bed that first morning came flooding into
my mind. I looked at him and said: “You were so little just lying there.” And,
right there in the middle of The Little Couple I burst into tears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So, sneaky; sneaking up on me like that right in the middle
of a TV show.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, sneaking up on me again
just a few minutes ago when I re-read what I had written: “He never shed one
tear.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My eyes spilled over yet again
thinking about my strong, brave little boy who I wish never had to be so strong
and brave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So, so sneaky….<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-75702238910317058682012-10-08T11:06:00.000-04:002012-10-08T11:14:20.228-04:00The Blessings of Diabetes<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Saturday (Oct 6) was Riley’s 7<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></sup>year anniversary
of his diagnosis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In years past, I would
anticipate the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would worry about
how I would handle it and the emotions it brought up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This year I didn’t do that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am learning to live one day at a time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each day has enough worry of its own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no need to borrow worry from other
days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I really gave no other thought
to it other than it was the day of his diagnosis and that we would need to plan
how to acknowledge it like we do every year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This year Riley had two baseball games that day, making it hard to go
out and “celebrate” like we usually do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The day started off fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But as the day progressed my emotions began to get the best of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of a sudden a flash of a memory from that
day 7 years ago would pop into my head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A flash of crumpling into my husband’s arms and sobbing while my oldest
son cried quietly in the corner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A flash
of the look on the doctor’s face as he gave us the news.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A flash of that tiny little hand with that
big old IV sticking out of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
remembrance of crawling into the hospital bed that night and waking up next to
him in the morning with fresh tears on my face because it hadn’t been a dream as
I had hoped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Try as I might to push
those thoughts out of my mind they would pop up without notice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was strange, really.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hadn’t expected to have so much emotion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was sitting in the bleachers waiting for Riley’s ballgame
to start and it hit me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was reading
something on my phone and, out of nowhere, the tears began to sting my
eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sat and blinked them back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then, I headed to my car so I could compose
myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sat in my car and prayed a
prayer of thankfulness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thankful that
Riley is happy and he is healthy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>7
years ago I never would have dreamed of how full his life would be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is a great kid with a great attitude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He plays 3 different sports (and plays them
very well, thank you).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s not been
readmitted to the hospital since diagnosis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He’s never gone into DKA.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s
never had a low severe enough to warrant glucagon or to cause a seizure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Health-wise he has been blessed beyond
measure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But, it’s not just about the health.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve wrote about this before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The health stuff, the needles, the carb
counting, all of the stuff that most people think is the big stuff is really
the little stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The big stuff is the
emotions, the feeling of being different from all of his peers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The frustration of not being able to
participate in sleep overs (yet).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The frustration
of being tethered to a pump 24/7/365.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
emotions of being hungry and not being able to eat because his sugar is too
high.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Riley is blessed beyond measure in that aspect too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, he has times when he yells about
diabetes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has days when he gets
frustrated by consistent highs or lows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He has his moments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, through
it all, he’s got his head on straight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
has the right perspective about all of it. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">About 3 months ago Riley and I were just finishing up
devotion before bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was sitting in
the bed next to me, little head propped up on pillows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I looked at him and said, “You know I would
take diabetes away from you if I could.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If I could take it away from you and give it to myself I would.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I know, Mom.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
was about a 30 second pause as he stared at his hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“But, I wouldn’t give it to you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Why wouldn’t you give it to me?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought he was going to say because he’s
used to it and he wouldn’t want me to have to learn to live with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn’t prepared for the wisdom that he was
getting ready to impart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Because it is mine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe
God gave me diabetes for a reason.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe
it’s a blessing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You don’t know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want to keep it. “<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">What has taken me more than 30 years to learn my little man
has learned in 10.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What many would see
as a curse, he sees as a blessing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So, as I sat in my car at the ballgame praying prayers of
thankfulness for Riley’s health I also prayed prayers of thankfulness for the
lessons he’s learned and the strong, beautiful, brave, and wise little boy he
has become.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Diabetes does not define him but it has helped shape who he
is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, I’m proud of who he is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Would he be that same strong, beautiful,
brave, and wise little boy if diabetes had never touched his life?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And, I’ll never know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My guess is
that even though he would be awesome without diabetes, he’s even more awesome
with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-1056056006203113652011-11-15T08:41:00.000-05:002011-11-15T08:41:41.207-05:00Same Old Fears Different Day<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Most days I can forget how dangerous Type 1 diabetes is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can forget the havoc it wreaks on the body and on the mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can forget that it kills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess it’s a defense mechanism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If it was at the forefront of my mind all the time I would go insane.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have to convince myself that if we just check sugars and dose with insulin all will be well.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But, then something like night before last happens and it all comes crashing down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All the fears I keep tucked safely in the back of my mind come tumbling out of my head and fill up my heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It started out like every other night with a quick check of the sugar before he went to bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All seemed well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every check thereafter was higher than the next.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He would get a dose of insulin and 1-2 hours later his sugar was the same or higher.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, let me stop right here and say:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know I should have dosed him with a syringe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know, I know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have no excuse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, I am human and sleep-deprived.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My plan was to get him through the night and change his needle first thing in the morning.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Fast forward a couple of hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His sugar was 466.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could not tell you how long it’s been since I’ve seen a sugar that high.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew I had to do something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As tired as I was I knew I had to change his needle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He awoke and said he needed to use the restroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course with a sugar that high I expected nothing less.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But then he said his stomach hurt and he felt like he was going to be sick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He heaved but nothing ever came up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I knew with guilt only a mother can feel that he had <a href="http://www.dlife.com/diabetes/blood_sugar_management/blood_sugar_highs/ketones">ketones</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I had him gulp water to try to flush them out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I changed his needle. When I removed the old one the cannula was completely bent and flat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had not been receiving any insulin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He hung off the bed feeling horrible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Usually when I have to change his needle in the middle of the night he puts up a lot of resistance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not this time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He just felt too bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">An hour later I was up and checking his sugar again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was coming down nicely, thank God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I leaned over and kissed his cheek and smelled that familiar smell that parents of kids with Type 1 know anywhere, the sickly sweet smell of ketones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I haven’t smelled it in years and years, but you never forget that smell.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And, then there was more guilt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I should have changed his needle sooner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I should have given him a dose of insulin with a syringe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I should have not been worried about sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I should have….<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then the “what ifs” started.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What if I’d not checked his sugar all night?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What if it was too late when I finally changed his needle and he went into <a href="http://diabetes.webmd.com/tc/diabetic-ketoacidosis-dka-topic-overview">DKA</a>?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He could have ended up in the hospital.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He could have died.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What had those sustained highs done to his eyes, his heart, his kidneys?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">November is National Diabetes Month.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I haven’t been as vocal about it is as I should have been.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To say I’ve had a lot going on is an understatement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, I have to remember what’s most important and that’s the health and well-being of my child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m not being dramatic, he could have died.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I hadn’t of caught it early enough and done something about it, he could have slipped into a coma and died.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So, my friends, I’m asking for your help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Please donate today in honor of my little man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dr. Faustman is doing <a href="http://www.faustmanlab.org/">awesome research </a>that I believe will one day lead to a cure for Riley and all the others who deal with the needle sticks, the restrictions, the fears every single day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">If you would like to help go <a href="https://give.massgeneral.org/SSLPage.aspx?pid=388">here</a> and donate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every little bit helps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also, Saturday is my birthday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Want to get me something?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, I’ll take a cure for Riley please.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your donation can help make that possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">One day he will sleep through the night without worry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He will run and not have to check his sugar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He will see a cupcake and just eat it without figuring carbs and debating whether it’s a good idea for him to even eat it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Would you like to be a part of making that happen?</span></div>Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-6055434509183824692011-10-06T09:00:00.002-04:002011-10-06T09:30:26.380-04:00Happy 6th<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Six years ago today my world, the world of my 3 year old son, and my family’s world was turned upside down by six little words:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Your son has Type 1 diabetes.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were all suddenly thrust into a world of carbs and insulin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My little man was thrust into a world of endless needle sticks and food restrictions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My husband and I were thrust into night upon night of interrupted sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Looking back on that day I had no idea what was really in store for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew it was going to be hard, but I couldn’t fully comprehend just how achingly hard it would be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All I knew was how hard it was to stick my child with a needle or how hard it was to tell him he couldn’t eat or drink something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know now, that was the easy part.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I now know the hard part is the fear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The fear of waking up one morning and finding him dead in bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The fear that I’m really not strong enough to handle it; that I have no clue what I’m doing and that instead of helping him I’m really harming him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The fear that one day he will rebel against this disease and just stop managing it at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The fear of blindness, limb amputation, kidney failure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The fear that there will never be a cure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For six years I’ve been carrying around these fears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pain from this fear isn’t as stabbing as it once was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s softened around the edges, but it’s still there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, I suppose it always will be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve learned to live with it, not to let it rule my thoughts like it once did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, it’s brought to the forefront from time to time, like when I hear of another child whose life was cut short by this terrible disease.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, for the most part it sits quietly in the back of my brain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Every year we “celebrate” Riley’s anniversary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We go out to the restaurant of his choice and for an activity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This year it is Sappari and bowling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People often don’t understand how we can celebrate such a thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I once felt that way too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, we are not celebrating that he got diabetes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are celebrating that it hasn’t beaten him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are celebrating that he is free from complications, that he’s never been hospitalized, and, basically, that he’s living and breathing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not just living and breathing but having a wonderful time doing it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I celebrate the fact that he can still participate in any activity he wants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is so happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He loves life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He loves his video games and his big brother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I celebrate the fact that while this disease has left scars on his body, it has not left scars on his heart or his soul.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, if anything, this disease has made him a better person, a more compassionate person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And, I celebrate all that it has taught me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I believe there is a lesson in anything if you just look for it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve learned that you can chose to be happy or you can chose to be miserable, right where you are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The situation you are in may not be optimal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It may not be what you always dreamed of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, it’s where you are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Make the best of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve learned not to take anything or anyone in your life for granted. Tomorrow they may not be there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t take anything for granted that you have right now, not your health, not your family, not your relationships. Six years ago I thought I could never ever be happy again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve learned not to look towards the future for my happiness, but to look right where I am right now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Right now is really all that I have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, right now I have a little boy with the most beautiful brown eyes I’ve ever seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s happy and, by God, he’s healthy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s got an insulin pump tethered to his side and a huge smile on his face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, right now, that makes me happy.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“To get up each morning with the resolve to be happy... is to set our own conditions to the events of each day. To do this is to condition circumstances instead of being conditioned by them.” Ralph Waldo Trine</span></div>Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-5704773053693146012011-08-10T16:43:00.001-04:002011-08-10T16:44:29.342-04:00Reading A Cure for EmmaToday I began reading the book <u>A Cure for Emma</u> by Julie Colvin. For those who may not know the book “<em>chronicles a mother’s quest to heal her child from a nearly invisible disease: type 1 diabetes</em>”. <br />
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I purchased the book online the first day it came out. I had been following Julie’s progress on writing her book at <a href="http://www.acureforemma.com/">her web page </a>and I’m also friends with her on Facebook. I was eager to purchase the book for two reasons. One, because I was curious to see what she had to say, was curious to hear her story, her journey. We parents of kids with diabetes all have a story as to how we got here. We all have our lives before and after the disease entered our lives. I have always been interested in hearing other parent’s stories about how diabetes came to take up residence in their lives. I’ve read hundreds of stories written by other parents. And, there has not been one single story, not one, where I couldn’t feel the pain, the exact pain they felt when they learned that their child had type 1 diabetes. Whenever I read these stories it always amazes me that no matter how different we all are, no matter what our life experiences have been, we are all still, in our rawest form, the same. It’s weird and, at the same time, comforting to know that.<br />
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The second reason I bought the book was because part of the proceeds is going to support my most favorite cause in the world: finding a cure for type 1 diabetes. Not only is it going to support finding a cure, but it is going to what I believe to be the most promising research: <a href="http://faustmanlab.org/">Dr. Faustman’s research </a>being done at Massachusetts General Hospital.<br />
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The book arrived in the mail several days ago. But, I finally got up the courage to start reading it today. Courage; why would I need courage to read a book? I read constantly. I really have no idea how many books I’ve read just this summer, but it’s a lot. I’m always excited about starting a new book. I was also excited to read Julie’s book. But, I was also scared. <br />
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You see, over the last 5 years I have honed the skill of pushing emotions down. I’ve learned to deal with the task at hand and not feel the moment. It sounds sad, really, when I say it. But, it’s true. It’s called survival. Because if I really took time to process all that type 1 diabetes throws at my child every day, I would be in the insane asylum or dead. Either way, I would be of no use to my child, who now needs me more than ever. <br />
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I knew that by reading this book I wouldn’t be able to keep those emotions at bay. And, I was afraid that once those emotions where brought to the surface again, they would overwhelm me. <br />
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I sent a little post to Julie that I would start reading the book Monday. Well, Monday came and went, as did Tuesday, and I didn’t start. I have no excuse. I just had surgery 5 days ago and have been lying around doing much of nothing. But, finally, today, I started the book. <br />
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I literally took a deep breath, opened the cover, and began to read. And, I’ve done better than I thought. I was on page 10 (“<em>Then I scan her chest for signs of breathing, as mothers do the world over. I’ve always done this, even pre-diabetes. But, now I’m prepared at a moment’s notice for a crisis.”</em>) before I had to blink back the tears. <br />
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I’ve made it to chapter 7 with no real break downs. I’ve stifled sobs a few times, but no actual tears have escaped yet. I’m not exaggerating when I say that most of the pages have been out of focus, blurred due to the tears in my eyes. Even the stories that seemingly don’t have anything to do with diabetes, like when she spent time with her long-lost friend who was dying of cancer, make me suppress the tears. Because I know that “seemingly” it doesn’t have to do with diabetes, but that in reality it does. In reality, once it’s in your life, everything, past, present, and future has to do with diabetes. <br />
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I know that a break down is coming. Eventually, the flood gates will open and I’ll weep for my child. My guess is it will happen tonight after Riley’s in bed. You see, I made a promise to myself that Riley would never see me cry about his diabetes. And, I’ve kept that promise for almost 6 years now. I don’t intend to go back on that promise now, or ever. <br />
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I’m going back to reading now. I just thought I’d give you guys a heads up. I’ve said countless times that this blog is my therapy. I will probably need lots of therapy after reading this book. So, there may be a blog explosion for a while. Or maybe not, maybe I’ll be OK. Actually, I know I’ll be OK. I don’t have a choice really. The question is: how much grieving will I have to do before I get back to a good place again?Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-63553684090504176202011-07-11T12:46:00.000-04:002011-07-11T12:46:29.083-04:00A Rant and a Letter to the Lady at the GateSeems I only come here to rant about diabetes now. Not like that's not what I was doing almost 6 years ago when I started this blog. Back then my posts where more melancholy. I also had a few hopeful and uplifting posts. But, now, I think I just come here to complain.<br />
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My blog is my therapy. And, at this point in my diabetes journey, I need a place to vent and whine.<br />
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I feel bad about it because there is so much more I could be posting. Like: Holden's wedding pictures. Yes, that's right; Holden has been married for 2 months now. He's still in college and about to start his junior year.<br />
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Or, I could talk about the new house we bought in January. Or, the awesome grades that Riley got this year.<br />
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But, no, I'm here to vent. Complain. Scream into the wind.<br />
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Riley is very active in sports. He plays baseball, spring and fall soccer, and basketball. Right now he is playing baseball. He made the all star team and the tournament is this week. The park where he is playing has a very strict policy regarding outside food and drink. And, I understand that. It is a local park that is trying to make money so that the kids have somewhere to play. I don't mind supporting that at all (even though a bottle of water is $2). <br />
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But, they only sell sodas, water, and regular PowerAde. To say that it has been hot in NC, is and understatement. It's been in the 90s here and when you add in the humidity it feels like its 100+. So, I had been taking PowerAde Zeros for Riley. He had been putting them in his bat bag and walking through the gate and no one was the wiser. But, yesterday, in his excitement to join his team he took off with his bat bag before I could put his drink in it. <br />
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I was going to get him to come back and put the drink in the bag. But, my mom said she would just take it in. She said she would explain why he had to have it. She was sure there wouldn't be a problem. Me, I wasn't so sure. That's why I had been sneaking drinks in all week. I've had to fight that battle too often. I'm a conflict-avoider by nature. I was just trying to let my child have his drink without having to fight for it.<br />
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When my mom got to the gate the woman told her she was not allowed to bring in the drink. My mom calmly explained to her that Riley has diabetes and they did not sell any sugar-free sports drinks. The woman then said that she had diabetes too and drank regular PowerAde. Uh, lady, wrong thing to say. I very calmly told her that she is free to do what she wants but that my son would not be drinking a regular PowerAde.<br />
Her saying this flipped a switch in Michael and he started to flip out a little bit. He started off by asking is she was Type 1 or Type 2. When she practically screamed back that she was Type 2 he went into a mini lesson on the difference between Type 1 and Type 2 diabetes. Instead of listening and trying to understand what he was saying, she said, “Well, he can just drink water.” OK, lady, mistake number two.<br />
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Her first mistake was pulling out her diabetes card. If you’re going to pull it out at least use it to let us know you get where we’re coming form. Don’t use it to judge us and put the way that you deal with your diabetes onto our son. Everyone’s diabetes is different, especially when dealing with two different types. I know a lot of people with Type 1 diabetes and they all have to do things differently. I know some kids who do drink regular sports drinks when they play games because they need the carbs to keep their sugars from going low while they are playing. That is not the case for Riley. <br />
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Her second mistake was making a call on what our child should be drinking. Yes, he could just drink water. On occasion he’s had to do just that because I have forgotten to bring him a drink. But, should he have to drink water instead of an electrolyte-replacing drink because of someone else’s ignorance? My answer to that would be a big fat NO.<br />
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Michael snatched the drink from me and proceeded to walk in with it anyway. I took it from him and told him not to make a big deal about it that I would just take it back to the car. Of course, my intention was to get Riley to go to the car, put the drink in his bag and walk back through the gate. That drink was going in one way or another. Besides, the woman was one of those people who can only see things from her perspective. There was no talking to her. She was too busy arguing and trying to be right to actually listen to what we were saying. So, trying to avoid drama I took the drink back to the car.<br />
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While I was taking the drink back to the car Michael said he turned his back to the woman and told her she just needed to stop talking to him. He said she kept talking and called him pathetic twice and then went on the say it was amazing what people would do to get out of paying $4 for a drink. It’s a good thing I didn’t hear her say that, because that’s when I would have lost it. Ignorance is one thing, but attacking someone else is a whole other ballgame. <br />
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That is when Michael turned to the woman sitting next to her and asked to speak to who was in charge. She immediately took him to a man. To the other woman’s credit, she was also trying to get the lady at the gate to understand that Riley needed that drink. When Michael found the guy in charge, my mom was already talking to him and explaining the situation.<br />
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By the time I got back into the park, the matter had been resolved and Michael was allowed to go back to the car and get the drink. <br />
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Michael did cause somewhat of a scene at the front gate. I noticed some other parents standing there with there mouths gaping open. You see, we’re normally pretty quiet. We don’t like to make waves and pretty much keep our mouths shut. But, after almost 6 years of dealing with people’s ignorance of Riley’s disease, Michael snapped. I’ve snapped on people before. But, yesterday I just didn’t have the energy. I was tired of fighting but, thankfully, Michael took up the slack for me.<br />
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While I was sitting waiting for the game to start I was thinking of some of things I wanted to tell the woman. Not ugly things, but things to try and make her understand where we were coming from.<br />
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So, I decided to write a letter. She will never see this letter, but my hope is that one day someone will read it and understand a little better what it’s like to live with Type 1 diabetes.<br />
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Dear lady at the front gate,<br />
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I wanted to explain to you why it was so important to us that we get to bring in a sugar-free sports drink for our child. I’m guessing that since you were working at the tournament that you have a least one child. Maybe as a mother you can understand. You see, my son was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes when he was only 3 years old. He has no memory of life before having to be jabbed with needles on a daily basis. He has no idea what it’s like to just eat whatever he wants. He doesn’t even know what it’s like to play a game without sticking himself with a needle at least once, but often, several times. I don’t tell you this to gain your sympathy. Neither he, nor I, wants your sympathy. We want you to understand what it’s like. Really understand the battle he fights every single day just to stay healthy. Not to sound dramatic, but it is a battle. Everyday we fight a battle for his health. Just today I had to fight a battle with him over French fries. He loves French fries, but we fight battles with him over French fries because it runs his sugars sky-high. We fight this battle to try to avoid complications like kidney failure and blindness. He hears on an almost daily basis why he can’t have certain things that other kids take for granted. This battle is emotionally draining on all of us and some days are worse than others. I guess we are a little battle-weary. So forgive us if we don’t want to have to fight with someone just so he can have a sugar-free sport drink. <br />
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And, you were correct when you said that he could just drink water. But, why should he have to? In the heat and humidity an electrolyte replacing drink is better for him. And, frankly, that’s not your call to make. He deserves to have a sports drink like everyone else. If your park sold sugar-free sports drinks we would gladly buy one. But, they don’t. Again, not looking for sympathy, but my son will always be a little different from the other kids. No other kid on his team sticks their finger through the dugout fence to have their sugar checked. No other kid chews glucose tablets while running out to play a base while their mother silently prays that he doesn’t pass out from a low sugar. No other child on his team is hooked to a life-sustaining machine 24/7. You don’t know how happy he was when we found PowerAde Zero. He was finally able to have a sports drink instead of water. To you, it may seem insignificant. But to a little boy who is used to always being different it is like heaven. <br />
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My hope is that you will have a little more compassion for others in the future. Everyone has their own battle that they are fighting. And, a lot of us are just plain tired of fighting and would like a little understanding for a change.<br />
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Sincerely,<br />
Riley’s momPenny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-12397539028741322502011-05-13T12:46:00.000-04:002011-05-13T12:46:13.490-04:00Gotta' Look For the Blessings<span style="font-size: large;">Today my little man is 9 years old. Yes, 9. Can you believe it? For those who have been following along with this blog since the beginning, he was 3 when I started writing it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It’s strange how certain events bring diabetes to the forefront. As I’ve said before, most days diabetes is way in the background. There are the “agghhhh!!!” moments from time to time; like night before last when I had to change his needle at 3:30 AM and he begged me not to as he stood there with sleep in his eyes. But, as usual, he took it all in stride. He let me change his needle and then lay down to sleep with his hips slightly askew as not to lay on the now tender spot where I had just jabbed him with a needle. While all that was not fun, it was just one of the many things that come up every day when you live with Type 1 diabetes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, today, the day that I celebrate bringing my child into this world, things seem a little harder, a little rawer somehow. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Don’t get me wrong, I’m not feeling like doom and gloom today. It’s a happy day. Riley is elated. He is having a birthday party with his friends after school and a few of them are sleeping over tonight. He is really excited about the sleepover. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Tomorrow we will be having a family birthday party. That is when he will find out that we will be flying to Disney World next week for his birthday. I’m so excited about that and know that he is going to be thrilled about it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I think what it comes down to is that you can never just be with this disease. Every birthday, every Christmas, every great family vacation, diabetes is there. It has to be factored into everything. And, while most days it’s second nature to do so, some days, like today, it’s just exhausting. I know the other parents of kids with Type 1 understand what I’m saying; like I said, not trying to be doom and gloom, just venting a little.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">On the way to work every morning I have prayer time. I turn off my radio and just pray. Today I did my usual prayer for safely for my family. I prayed for those who have recently lost loved ones as well as those who are sick or having surgery today. And, I prayed a special prayer thanking God for letting Riley make it to 9. Morbid? Maybe. But, I know I am blessed that he didn’t die at diagnosis. I am blessed every single morning when I tiptoe into his room and see his little chest rising. And, most of all I am blessed that God chose me to be his mom. </span>Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-60217368075810228142011-03-22T09:36:00.000-04:002011-03-22T09:36:39.478-04:00Why I Love My Alarm Clock(**Note: This post was written a while ago and I never got around to publishing it.)<br />
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I’m not what one may call tech savvy. I do pick up on how to use new technology pretty quickly, but I’m not really into all of the latest gadgets. For example, I don’t have Internet on my phone nor do I own an ipod or mp3 player. I have recently begun to text, only because it is Holden’s chosen form of communication with me. <br />
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I wouldn’t say I’m old school. More like “not as young school”. <br />
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The thing is as much as I’m not into technological advances; I get giddy when I read about the advances in insulin pumps and CGM (Continuous Glucose Monitors). When Riley was diagnosed 5 years ago CGMs were talked about but didn’t really exist. Now, I “know” several people who use them or their child does. When CGMs first came out they seemed archaic, at best. But, recently it seems they are becoming more and more reliable. <br />
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Still, I’m apprehensive to begin using one with Riley. It’s not really the cost, although that does have to be taken into consideration. Because if I really thought that it would make a huge difference in Riley’s diabetes control, I’d get a second job to pay for it if I had to do that. With his A1C in range I’m not sure it’s really worth it right now. It took me a LONG time to become accustomed to having him hooked to a machine 24/7. It was years before I didn’t cringe at the sight of his pump tubing snaking out of the waistband of his pants. I’m not sure I am ready to hook him up to another machine. I don’t think Riley would like two pieces of hardware hanging off of him.<br />
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Also, I’ve heard the needle changes are brutal. I’m not ready to subject Riley to that if we don’t have to. My hope is that over the years they will become even more accurate and eventually be integrated into one piece of hardware (by Animas, I love them). And, they will downsize the needle a bit. <br />
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I’m not opposed to trying one out. I’m just not ready to jump on the bandwagon and buy one. To be honest, the main reason I would like to have one is for nighttime. I wish there was a way that he could only wear it at night, but I know that it takes a while to calibrate and all that, so that’s not an option right now. I have to be honest, since the story of the 13 year old girl who never woke up in the morning, the victim of dead in bed syndrome, I’ve let Riley run a little higher at night. It’s not a conscious decision, really. I’m just more wary about giving insulin if he’s high. I’ve cut back on the amount he gets which, of course, makes him run a little higher. <br />
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My husband and I get up more to check on him too. And, we’ve been sleep deprived for 5 years now. Every minute of sleep is precious to us. But, I can’t seem to go as long between checks now. It doesn’t help that a few nights ago at around 1:30 AM Riley’s sugar was 65. He drank a juice and got a basal decrease. 20 minutes later, he was 63. After another juice he was fine for the rest of the night. But, I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if we had not gotten up to check when we did. What would have happened if the alarm clock didn’t wake us and we hadn’t done the check 20 minutes later? Would his liver have helped out and kicked in some glucose? Or would his sugar have continued to plummet? Would he have become a victim of DIBS? <br />
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Speaking of technology, I am completely dependant upon my alarm clock. It doesn’t just help me get to work on time; it helps me insure my child’s safety. Most people probably buy cheap little alarm clocks. They will get the job done just fine I guess. Not me, I buy top of the line alarm clocks, the ones with all the bells and whistles. You see, when you are constantly resetting your alarm for every couple of hours every night to the week, alarm clocks don’t last as long. I found out it’s best to spend a little money on them. They will last longer.<br />
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I always have to make sure that the alarm is loud enough to wake us. You see, when the alarm goes off every couple of hours your sleep deprived brain will learn to ignore it. Right now the alarm clock is on my side of the bed. In a while, we’ll switch it to Michael’s side of the bed. Eventually, I begin to hit snooze and ignore the alarm, sometimes for more than an hour. That’s when I know it’s time for it to go to Michael’s side of the bed. And, when he starts to ignore it, we switch it again. <br />
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We recently bought a new alarm clock. This time I bought one with some sort of internal battery that keeps time even when the power is out. Before, we had an alarm clock that used a 9 volt battery so that when the power goes off it will continue to work. Well, turns out, our power went out and the 9 volt was dead and so the alarm didn’t work. The alarm has to work. ALWAYS. So, I shelled out a little more for an internal battery thingy. It helps me sleep a little better on stormy nights. <br />
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This is one of those “little things” I’ve talked about before. I’ve said it’s the needle sticks and the food restrictions that get people's attention. But, the fact of the matter is, that for those of us that live it, it’s the “little things” that weigh us down. The not-so-normal things that take the toll on our minds and the minds of our children. The “little things” that make him different. The “little things” that make me different. I mean, it’s not normal to love your alarm clock. But, I do. And, as much as I love the alarm clock, I absolutely positively love, love, love Riley’s little blue pump. I cannot imagine life without it. <br />
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As much as I don’t really get into technology, I am still very thankful for it. Who would think that an alarm clock is so important? But, it is to me.Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-60310156260028502522011-02-24T20:13:00.000-05:002011-02-24T20:13:30.498-05:00JDRF Vs. FaustmanAbout three weeks ago I came across <a href="http://www.diabetesmine.com/2011/02/losing-faith-in-a-cure.html">a post </a>by DOC founder <a href="http://www.lemonadelife.com/">Allison Blass</a>. I was very interested to read it for a couple of reasons. One, it talked about losing faith in a cure for Type 1 diabetes. And, two, it was written by Allison. I don’t really know Allison, but I kind of do in a round about sort of weird internet way. Allison’s blog is one of the first blogs I started reading when <a href="http://threeyearsfree.blogspot.com/2005/11/october-6-2005.html">our world came crashing down </a>about 5 and ½ years ago. She also interviewed me one time for <a href="http://www.diabetesselfmanagement.com/articles/emotional-health/diabetes_blogs/print/">a magazine article that she wrote</a>. And, we even got a Christmas card from her once. So, I was interested to see what she had to say on the subject. I think she did a great job writing the post. She was able to state why she felt how she did without begrudging others for feeling differently. <br />
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Prior to reading her post, I had read a little chatter on the internet about <a href="http://www.diatribe.us/issues/29/diabetes-dialogue.php">JDRF saying</a> they were not as focused on a cure, or something to that affect; or more like they were focusing on a cure still, but also focusing on better treatments of Type 1 diabetes. I never gave it a second thought, really. It wasn’t news to me. It didn’t anger me. It didn’t shock me. <br />
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You see, when Riley was diagnosed in October of 2005, the minute we got home from the hospital I began to scour the internet for any information I could find. Inevitably I searched about a cure. Of course, JDRF was one of the first web pages to pop up. After all, JDRF is an acronym for Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation. I read about them. I read their mission statement. I did my research on them.<br />
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I also found some articles written about research being done at Massachusetts General Hospital by <a href="http://www.faustmanlab.org/">Dr. Denise Faustman</a>. I read about her research. I read about what she had done with mice. It all made sense to me. Something just clicked inside of me and said, “This woman is dedicated to finding a cure”. And, I was hooked. She hadn't even begun human clinical trials yet. The phase I of her trials began in January of 2008. She is now raising money to fund Phase II of the project. <br />
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The next year, one day after Riley’s one year anniversary, I held the 1st annual <a href="http://threeyearsfree.blogspot.com/2006/10/walk-of-hope-2006.html">Walk of Hope</a>. Every cent raised went to Dr. Faustman’s research. I’ve held several other walks since then. All of the money went to Dr. Faustman’s research. Every walk, every fundraiser, every penny saved in Riley’s “hope jar” (featured in my blog profile pic), goes to her research. And, it always will, until the research ends. <br />
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Have I supported JDRF? I guess I have a little. I have donated to others who have walked to raise money for JDRF. Some people I know and some I don’t. Riley had a T-shirt sent to him several years ago by a little boy who he will probably never meet. I “met” his dad through his blog and donated to his walk. In turn, he sent a T-shirt to Riley. JDRF is prominently displayed on the shirt. Riley wears it with pride. <br />
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I don’t have anything against JDRF. But, and it’s just my personal opinion, they are not really focused on a cure. There, I said it. I know that infuriates some people, but that’s how I feel and I have felt that way for over 5 years now. I do believe they are very committed to finding better ways to manage diabetes. When Riley was diagnosed, continuous glucose monitors were talked about, but not on the market. I remember that even back then JDRF was throwing around an idea about a closed loop system, AKA: an artificial pancreas. <br />
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I feel the same way about it now as I did then. It’s quite simple really. That’s not a cure. I want a cure. Period. I want my little man to live his life without depending on a drug to live. And, I’m not being dramatic here. Without insulin, Riley would die. I want him to know what it’s like to eat a snack without having to jab himself with a needle first. I want him to know what it’s like to not be attached to a machine 24/7. I want him to play sports without worrying if he will go low. I want him to have a functioning pancreas again. To me, anything short of that is just a band aid. Band-aids come off. They have to be reapplied. They cover up wounds. I don’t want him to be “wounded” anymore. <br />
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I know that JDRF also funds research projects searching for a cure. (As a side note, they haven’t given one cent to Dr. Faustman.) But they put the majority of their money into projects such as the artificial pancreas. And, that right there is why I have never had a fundraiser for them. I want ALL of my money to go towards a cure.<br />
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Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful for organizations like JDRF that are trying to find better ways to manage diabetes. Like I said, when Riley was diagnosed you couldn’t even get a continuous glucose monitor. Now, many people have them. And, in the years since they came onto the market I’ve been told their accuracy has improved quite a bit. Not only that, I now bolus Riley with his pump from across the room via his blood sugar machine. It is quite wonderful. <br />
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And, all of this technology is great because it helps improve the lives of those touched by this disease. It helps control sugars, which in turn decreases complications and increases my little boy’s now shorter than average lifespan. <br />
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But, in the end, he’s still attached to his pump 24/7. He still could go into DKA from the flu. He could go into a coma from a low. And, my biggest fear, he could go to sleep tonight and <a href="http://www.childrenwithdiabetes.com/d_0n_g00.htm">not wake up in the morning</a>. All because of Type 1 diabetes. <br />
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As parents we all want the very best for our children. We want to see them succeed. We want to see them live their dreams. Some think that better technology is the answer.<br />
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Me? I know Riley can live his dreams with or without Type 1 diabetes. But, I would rather see him do it without an insulin pump tethered to his side, without the worry, the emotions, the complications that come along with this disease. <br />
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So, I will continue to hope. I will continue to pray. And, I will continue to use that improved technology until the day that Riley does not need it anymore. And, I firmly believe, with all my heart, that Dr. Faustman’s research will lead us there. <br />
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**(I have recently began a letter writing campaign to raise money for Dr. Faustman’s research. If you would like do donate, please <a href="http://give.massgeneral.org/SSLPage.aspx?pid=554">click here</a>. All donations are tax deductible.)Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-56718006187132912422011-02-03T12:24:00.002-05:002011-02-03T12:37:50.651-05:00Home is Where the Diabetes Supplies AreWe just moved into a new house. We have been renters our whole married lives and finally made the leap into being homeowners. I love it. It's so nice to be able to paint whatever color I want and hang as many pictures as I want. There is also something special about just knowing that it's ours. <br />
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But, in the midst of all the bliss of finally having our own home, diabetes keeps poking out its ugly little head. <br />
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First, it was during the packing phase. I had so much stuff that I'm not sure why I ever had in the first place, let alone know why I kept any of it. Riley's diabetes supplies were in the living room closet. They were kept together for the most part, but over the years some things had gotten separated from the pack. I found too many meters to count. I threw out some and kept some. I had to debate on which ones to scrap. Finally I just got rid of the older ones. After all, we all know that meters are a dime a dozen. Companies are happy to give you free meters. Where they really make their money is with the strips anyway. <br />
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In that same closet I came across Riley’s bag. It is a little black nylon lunch bag. We used to keep all of his supplies in it, insulin, syringes, juice, alcohol swabs, ketone strips, glucagon. We took it wherever we went. That bag has been places. I’m not much of a purse kind of girl, but a few years into his diagnosis I broke down and started carrying one with me. It’s very practical for carrying all the needed diabetes equipment. When I finally gave in and started carrying a purse, we retired that bag. After I pulled it out of the closet I turned to throw it in the trash bag next to me. I held it there and let it hover of the bag for a second before I turned and tossed into a storage bin that would be put in the attic. I just couldn’t bare to throw it away. <br />
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When I cleaned out the kitchen cabinets, up in the far corner in the darkest recesses of one cabinet I found some more diabetes loot. I then remembered that when Riley was first diagnosed we kept his supplies in a kitchen cabinet. That was back in the injection days. Once he started on the pump there wasn't enough room there for all the supplies and most were moved to the closet. I found a few strays lancets, some insulin syringes, and several alcohol wipes.<br />
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I reached in and felt around one last time before moving on. I pulled out 3 small slips of paper. I turned them over to see what they were and stared at them for the longest time. They were prescriptions given to us when Riley was discharged from the hospital. The date in the corner was 10/7/05. Suddenly, I was taken back to that day. I stared at the neatly printed words. They were written by a woman just out of medical school who was very unsure of herself. It took her forever to write the prescriptions. And, when I took them to the pharmacy they were written for over the counter things like alcohol pads, lancets, and ketone strips. They were returned to me and for the life of me I’m not sure why I kept them.<br />
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But, there they were, in my hand, a harsh reminder of the day he was diagnosed. All of a sudden I was bombarded with images from the hospital. I slept in the bed with Riley at the hospital. I remember the first morning I woke up and saw Michael sleeping in the chair. Riley was still sound asleep beside me. I woke up, looked at him, saw the IV sticking out of his little hand, and promptly burst into tears. All I could think was “It wasn’t a dream. This is a reality. My little boy will have to deal with this disease forever. It’s never going away.” <br />
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I got up out of the bed and tried to get myself together. I tried to stop the tears before anyone saw me. At that moment, the doctor who wrote his prescriptions walked in. She began to blab on about something and when she finally looked at me she saw the tears. She looked at me and said, “Are you crying? Don’t cry, everything is going to be OK.” She looked terrified because she didn’t really know how to handle a crying mother. At the sound of her voice Riley had stirred from his sleep. He sat up in bed. I quickly turned my back toward him and faced the wall. My back was to the doctor also. I forced the tears to stop. I had made a promise to myself that Riley would never see me cry about his diabetes. And, since that day, I’ve cried a river, no an ocean, of tears. But, I haven’t broken that promise I made to myself. I remember as I was turned around she kept droning on and on about something. And, all I could think was that I wanted her to shut up and leave. <br />
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All these memories came from just a few pieces of paper, memories that had been tucked in the recesses of my mind. Ones I hoped some day I would forget, but I know now I never will. <br />
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We are finally moved into our new house now. I had packed all of Riley’s diabetes necessities up in a box. Instead of unpacking them right away I let them sit in our closet for a little while. Eventually, I got tired of digging through them to find what I needed. I began to search for the best place to put them. I finally settled on a shelf in a hall closet. There they sit: sites, strips, IV prep, cartridges, Glucagon, old meters, a few syringes. They take up a whole shelf. <br />
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Once I got them placed in the closet I took the box they were packed in and threw it down the hall. Michael came in and asked what was going on. I told him I was angry. I was angry that I had to find a place for all these things. I was angry that Riley needed these things to live, angry that he always will. Angry that every house he ever moves into will have to have a special place for all the things it takes to keep him alive. <br />
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This is the just another example of how diabetes taints every aspect of life. It even makes its mark on a new house. It makes marks on Riley’s fingers, permanent scars on his skin. And, it has made permanent marks on my heart.Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-92010530403716863332010-10-23T13:58:00.004-04:002010-10-23T14:33:07.304-04:00A Harsh Reminder<span style="font-size:130%;">This week I was harshly reminded of how terrible Type 1 diabetes is. I was reminded by a little girl named Eilish. Eilish passed away in the middle of the night because of a disease that she and my son shared.<br /><br />Most days I'm able to push diabetes to the back of my mind. I count carbs. I help with boluses. I adjust basals. I monitor sugars at half time of soccer games. I ponder what to do about that 2 AM sugar that is a little on the high side. But, somehow, I keep the "bad things" at bay. All the "what ifs".<br /><br />The first thing I do when I wake up every morning is tiptoe into Riley's room and listen for his breathing or watch for his chest to rise. I've been doing it for 5 years now. It's become somewhat of a habit. I think I had convinced myself that he'll be OK. He's been OK for 5 years now.<br /><br />But, the story of this little girl, this girl with so much life left to live, has brought all of the "what ifs" flooding back in. I haven't slept well in 5 years. I get up at least a couple of times a night to check Riley's sugars. But, now, my sleep is tempered with something else. My brain seems to be on alert all the time. I can't quite rest. I've had several fitful nightmares where Riley was in a coffin.<br /><br />It's horrible. I hate this disease. I hate it with a passion. I hate that it can rear it's ugly head and anytime steal away what little bit of peace I had made with it. I hate what it makes Riley have to do on a daily basis. I hate the little black dots it leaves on his fingertips. I hate how it alters his moods. I hate what it did to Eilish, what her parents must be going through. And, I hate that I cannot be sure that it will not happen to Riley.<br /><br />Yes, it's a harsh reminder that no matter how much you convince yourself that everything will be fine, it's just smoke and mirrors. It's just a way to get yourself through each day. A way to cope with a disease that you are helpless to make go away.<br /><br />My heart is broken right now. I haven't felt this way about diabetes in a while. I had stupidly convinced myself that everything will be fine. And, this story reminds me that it may not. This story reminds me how fragile life is and how we really don't have the control that we think we do.<br /><br />The only thing I can do is hope and pray for a cure . All of my fundraising efforts go toward </span><a href="http://www.faustmanlab.org/"><span style="font-size:130%;">Dr. Faustman's research</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;">.<br /><br />I will do what I can. I will pray for this family. I will pray for a cure. And, I will hope and pray that Type 1 diabetes spares my son from the same fate. </span>Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-28694221021718112732010-10-06T14:04:00.001-04:002010-10-06T14:06:22.788-04:00A Five Year Battle<span style="font-size:130%;">Five years ago today my son was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. I don’t have the energy, either physical or emotional to write an actual blog post about it. <br /><br />Right now I am exhausted. I was up late doing a site change and then up every two hours all night checking sugars. So, yeah, I’m tired. Not just because of last night, but because of the last five years. I’m just tired of it all.<br /><br />But, I felt like I had to come here and acknowledge this day in some way. I know this blog post isn’t the most uplifting, and I’m sorry about that. I can barely keep my eyes open, let alone put together a coherent post summing up the last 5 years of life. <br /><br />All I can say is that we’re still here. We’re still fighting. Five years later we’re still determined to fight a battle that seems will never end. Actually, Riley is fighting the battle, I’m just the one on the sidelines trying to make the strategic maneuvers that will hopefully keep him safe for one more day. Today I feel like waving the white flag, but I know I can’t. A little boy who means everything in the world to me looks to me to lead him in this battle that he didn’t chose. The enemy just snuck up on him and we’ve been on the defensive ever since. <br /><br />He’s been fighting this battle for 1,825 days now. There have been no cease fires called, not for birthdays, holidays, or even the middle of the night. <br /><br />He needs a cure. It’s as simple as that. He needs a cure. </span>Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-70925868279269668912010-06-17T11:11:00.002-04:002010-06-17T11:51:14.921-04:00Another Quicky Update<span style="font-size:130%;">It seems I always promise a real post, yet always do little bullets. One day, I'll write a real, heart-felt post about diabetes. But, not today.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">*** I'll start with diabetes things: ummmmmmm, not much to report. His last A1C was 7.3. I'm happy with that. But, if things continue like they've been lately it should be even lower next time. But, we all know that he could start running high 24/7 and that "great" A1C will be out the window. For the most part diabetes has been behaving itself as much as it can. Riley was playing soccer and baseball at the same time and was on a temp basal quite a bit because of it, but his sugars did well. Right now he's just playing baseball.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">*** Speaking of baseball... It was supposed to end this week. But, he made Allstars. While I'm proud of him for making it, I'm not happy that he has practice every. single. day (other than Wednesdays and Sundays). I was looking forward to relaxing on my one month off (July), but it appears that will not be happening. He is playing in a tournament next weekend. Then the Allstar tournament is July 5-11. If they do well it may last longer than that. Still, Riley is excited about it. He didn't think he was going to make it and was a little upset. The smile on his face when they called out his name was priceless.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">*** My last day of work for the summer is June 30th and it can't come quick enough. I'm off today and loving it. Even though I'll be busy the whole month of July I'm looking forward to not having to go into work every day.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">*** We are planning a trip to New York City in July. We were planning on leaving on July 12th, but because of Allstars I'm looking at going the last week in July instead. I am very excited. None of us have ever been to New York. It's going to be a bit expensive, but it will be worth it. I figured since Holden is getting married next year, this will be our last chance to have a real family vacation with just the four of us. Holden has always wanted to visit New York, so that's what we are doing. If any of you have any tips or suggestions let me know. We are driving up and planning to spend 3 or 4 nights in Manhattan. I plan to use the subway for transportation once we get there. I have a lot of planning to do between now and then. I want to kind of know what we're going to do every day, so we're not just wandering all over the city. Again, any advice on what to do while we're there and where to eat would be greatly appreciated. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">*** In addition to going to New York we will be going to Myrtle Beach in July also. We are going on a church mission trip. We've gone several years, but were unable to go last year because my mom was so sick. We've always spent 3 nights before and this year we will be spending 5. I'm looking forward to it. We do that as a family too. And, my future daughter-in-law is going too. We have fun helping others and have some down time in the pool too. And, one day we visit a water park. So, it's also kind of a little vacation.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">*** Not enough things to do in July? How about we throw in swimming lessons for Riley? That's right, the one week we don't have vacation, a mission trip, or baseball, Riley will be taking swimming lessons. I wasn't going to sign him up because it was being done the week we were going to New York. Since that has changed I figured I'd sign him up. I'm not doing it because I'm a glutton for punishment and want to spend my entire time off shuttling him from here to there. I'm doing it because we live around water and he loves getting in it. It's important to me that he knows how to swim. Holden took swimming lessons pretty much every year for several years when he was younger. He's not a great swimmer, but he knows enough to keep from drowning. Riley took lessons last year, but still has a lot to learn.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">*** My mom is STILL sick. June 20th will be exactly a year since her first visit to the ER. And, to be honest, we're not really any closer to knowing what's wrong with her than we were then. We have been around and around in circles. She's seen every doctor that has been suggested to her and some who haven't. And, they always send her on to someone else, because they can't figure out what going on with her. She has an appointment with a GI doctor next week as well as a urologist. Even after all this time, I always hope that we'll walk in and they'll say: "I know what's wrong with you." But, it hasn't happened yet. I have to believe that it will one day soon. At least she's not bad all the time. She never has a great day. But, she has good days and bad days. I never know how she's going to be from one day to the next. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">*** Michael is off for the summer. He is still doing pool work on the side. Currently he and Riley are in Holden's room playing video games together.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">*** Holden is home for the summer. He is working a few days a week. He also goes back to his apartment and spends a night here and there. It's nice having him home again. We watched The Book of Eli together last night. He has already seen it, but wanted me to see it with him. It was a good movie. I really liked it, but can see why it wouldn't be for everybody. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I guess that's it. Isn't it enough? Really, when I get time between games, vacations, and swimming lessons I will write a real post. I missed out on <a href="http://bittersweet-karen.blogspot.com/2010/05/so-i-have-this-idea.html">diabetes blog week</a>. I plan on doing the posts at a later date. There are some good suggestion given on what to talk about. I'm overdue for a sappy, emotional diabetes post anyway.</span>Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-47842231925022810932010-05-13T13:58:00.003-04:002010-05-13T14:05:08.981-04:00Eight Is Great!<div><span style="font-size:130%;">My sweet baby boy turns 8 today. I cannot believe how the years have flown.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Happy birthday, little man. You inspire me with your courage and positive attitude each and every day.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">I am so blessed to get to be your mom. </span></div><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470816976130588882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 294px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin0ZpJ-HGS-okGfLtbTJS1kRDvQADDX0FNENH1YL_QCRCjNxhgJozJWBQfEQPcUPvV17IvX9fuPi0ZRRWuwfZxOOLlSX45SxbL8CKrnzPsPtrXqgQgBDJuMaYq5lYW1SFV8ycXGw/s400/HPIM1771%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /></p><p> </p>Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-85933258354354845562010-04-09T12:48:00.005-04:002010-04-09T13:42:05.405-04:00Quicky Updates<span style="font-size:130%;">I don't mean to stay away for so long. I really don't. So, for now, here are some quick updates on life.<br /><br />** Had my surgery (hysterectomy, kept one ovary) on March 29th. Everything went well. I spent one night in the hospital. I begged the doc to let me go home the night after surgery, but he wouldn't let me. He said there was too much of a risk of bleeding. But, he did take away my pain pump and catheter so I could move around more. So, I came home first thing the next morning and have done well. Probably have done too much on some days. My belly lets me know when I've done too much because it swells. As far as the pain goes, it has not been anywhere near the pain I was in before surgery. Only having to take Ibuprofen for the pain. Have my post-op appointment on Monday and plan to return to work on Tuesday. ( In addition, the two stray kittens (Savannah and Samantha) we got in December had their hysterectomy this week. We've all been lounging around together. Actually, we haven't. They started jumping up on the couch and chasing each other the night after surgery. They took it a little better than I did.)<br /><br />** My mom is still not doing well. We still do not have any answers as to what is going on with her. She has good and bad days. She has been sick for 10 months now. I've lost count of how many doctors she has seen or how many times she's been in the hospital. So, if you don't mind when you say your prayers include a quick one for my mom.<br /><br />** Holden is doing well. In a few short weeks his first year of college will be done. I can't believe it. It has flown by. You know, I thought I would die when he left for college, but I didn't. It was rough for a while, but it was also nice to see him out on his own and to know that I didn't do such a bad job raising him after all. He still comes home pretty much every weekend. He will be home tonight. He is going to work first and then he'll come home. He texts me almost every day. I am so proud of the young man he has become.<br /><br />** Michael and I are still saving up a down payment for a house. It's not easy. We have both been on spring break this week and he's worked most of it putting up and working on pools. I hate that he has to do it. But, it's good money. And, I want a house that we can call our own. Also, since my last post we celebrated our 10 year wedding anniversary. We didn't do anything special. We went out to eat at a local restaurant that night and the following Saturday we went and looked at houses and went out to eat again. (Also, Michael had a birthday yesterday. Happy birthday Michael Alexander. I love you!!!)<br /><br />** Riley is playing soccer and baseball. Soccer practice started a few weeks before baseball did. Baseball games start a couple of weeks before soccer ends. It makes for busy weeks. He had baseball practice on Monday and soccer practice last night. His first soccer game is Saturday at 11:30 and he has baseball practice that morning at 9:00. It seems like a lot, but he loves it and doesn't want to give up either one. I am glad he is able to play both.<br /><br /><br /><br />___________________________________________________________________<br /><br /><br />Now, let's talk diabetes. That's what this blog is supposed to be about anyway.<br /><br />** A few days after my last post Riley's pump starting unpriming itself. It had done it before but not enough to warrant a new pump (according to Animas). This time they said to send it back. We got another Animas 2020 while we waited for the PING. It didn't take long before the paperwork was straight and he had his new pump. And, it didn't cost us as much out of pocket as I thought it would. To sum things up we love, love, love it. The remote is fabulous!! He can be up to 10 feet away from me and I can bolus him. He got it in Duke blue. (BTW way to go Duke 2010 National Champs !!!)<br /><br />** Don't really have much else to say about diabetes. I guess that's a good thing and a reason I don't post as much as I used to. What else is there to say? Diabetes sucks, enough said. He has highs and he has lows and he has some sugars in between. He deals with it really well and I'm very proud of him. He is taking on more and more of his care. I hardly ever check his sugar anymore, only when he asks me too. He does all of his bolusing at school, but I handle it when he's at home. He's able to read labels for carbs now. He understands so much about what affects his sugars and what doesn't. I still hope and long for a cure. All my donations continue to go to </span><a href="http://www.faustmanlab.org/"><span style="font-size:130%;">Dr. Faustman's research</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;">. I pray every day for a cure, but have learned to live life as though there will never be one (if that makes sense).<br /><br />Well, I guess that's it for now. Thank you to anyone who is still reading.</span>Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-4879332106333263772010-03-08T13:24:00.002-05:002010-03-08T13:31:23.412-05:00What's Happening<span style="font-size:130%;">I don’t post on a regular basis anymore. My blog reading has slowed down considerably too. Still, I think about you guys often and even if I don’t type out an actual post, I’ve written many a blog post in my head.<br /><br />Just wanted to update anyone who might be interested on what’s been going on lately.<br /><br /><br />● First, the biggest news; Holden got engaged last weekend. He and his new fiancé, Brittaney, have been dating for almost 4 years now. They have set a date for April 23, 2011. That will be the 5 year anniversary of when they first started going out. He’s young and she’s young, 19 and 18. I’m not thrilled about it and would rather he wait until he’s out of college. Still, it’s his choice. He assures me he is still going to pursue becoming a physical therapist. She will be starting college in the fall at the same place Holden is. They both assure me they are going to stay in school. It’s doable, but it will be hard. I am a firm believer that anyone can do whatever they want as long as they are committed to their goal and will work hard for it. Still, he’s my baby and I’m not ready for it. Guess I have another year to get ready anyway.<br /><br />● My surgery (hysterectomy) is scheduled for March 29th. The closer it gets the more anxious I get. I’m just ready to get it over with so I can stop thinking about the “what-ifs”. I hope to be having a DaVinci robotic surgery. (I have my pre-op on the 19th so will get more details then.) Mainly I’m worried about how speedy the recovery will be. Really don’t have a whole lot of time off of work. The doctor told me I’d be out 2 weeks, but I’ve requested 3 weeks off to be safe. I’m going to try to go back at the 2 week mark if at all possible. That way if Riley gets sick or has a field trip I want to go on I can take a day off for that. Just don’t want to use up all my sick time if I can help it. <br /><br />Like I said, I’m anxious. I’m starting to work on getting my house in order. I want everything clean and straight prior to my surgery. My problem is I know what I want to do, but haven’t gotten motivated to do it yet. I’m a very last minute person which only adds to my stress level. I’m trying to push myself to get things done now rather than later. My surgery is the Monday before Easter so I know I need to get my Easter shopping for the kids done pretty soon.<br /><br />I’ve weighed the pros and cons of surgery and the pros far outweigh the cons. The one thing I keep reminding myself when I have doubts about going through the surgery is that I’ve been hurting going on 20 years now. Also, I hurt about 2 weeks out of every month. When you add that up it means I’m in pain about 6 months out of the year. I just thought of that yesterday. It’s staggering, really, to think I’ve given that much of my life up with this. Just ready to get it over with and get on with my life.<br /><br />● Riley’s been having a lot of lows lately. I’ve been kind of holding off on doing anything with his basals. Usually this sort of thing works itself out. It doesn’t seem to be doing that so I’ll be sitting down tonight and trying to figure out what to do about the lows and his basals. He had a 48 last night (the lowest he’s had in a good while). Usually, he just says he feels low, drinks a juice, and goes on about his business. But, the 48 threw him for a loop. He was shaky and looked scared to death. The low came right at bedtime and thanks to good ol’ rebounds and my overzealous attempt to stop the low, the rest of his nighttime sugars were over 300. He was 188 at breakfast this morning, so was finally starting to come down. His teacher called at lunch and he was 72. That’s how most of his lows have been: low enough to have him drink juice, but not low enough to really make him feel bad. <br /><br />● I totally missed Riley’s pump anniversary. I’ve remembered it every year but his one. On March 3rd he had been on the pump for 4 long years. That means his pump warranty has expired. At first we were told that once it expired he could get a new pump. Then, I was told that insurance would not pay for another one until his current pump malfunctions. He has an Animas 2020 now. Once this one croaks he will be getting a Ping. Animas told me that once his pump does malfunction they will still send a replacement pump until all the paperwork is done for a new one. That made me feel better because I thought he might have to be without a pump for a while. So, we sit and wait for his pump to do something crazy. He’s had 9-10 pumps over the past 4 years. The last one he got was in September. This one will probably last for years. While I’m not looking forward to the out of pocket expense for a new pump, I cannot wait for the remote. It seems like it will make things easier. Riley currently wears his pump in pockets sewed into his waistband. So, every time he needs insulin he has to dig in his pants and fish out his pump. It will especially come in handy for dosing in the car. <br /><br />● My mom is doing better, but still doesn’t have any real answers as to what is going on. Over the past 9 months she’s been in the hospital 4 times. She’s been to the ER 5 times at 3 different hospitals. She’s seen 3 neurologists, a rheumatologist, a psychiatrist, a cardiologist, and a gastroenterologist. She’s even had gallbladder surgery. Everyone she’s seen tells her they can’t find anything wrong with her. Whatever is going on is neurological but no one can seem to put their finger on what is causing her symptoms. She got her 3rd neuro opinion from a physician at Duke a couple of weeks ago. He’s given us more hope than anyone else. She goes for a sleep-deprived EEG on Thursday. Her test is at 10:00 AM and she has been told she cannot sleep past 12:00 PM on Wednesday. That means she has to stay awake for 22 hours. I can’t imagine even trying that. Of course, I’m sleep-deprived all the time. What with sugar checks and belly pain I’m lucky to get 5 hours of sleep per night. Luckily, Holden is on spring break this week. He has volunteered to stay with Mom Wednesday night and help keep her awake by playing games with her and stuff. <br /><br />● Michael and I are trying to save up a down payment so we can build a house. At first, we were talking about buying a house, but we changed our minds about that. We’d rather have something we built together. We have found some land we’re interested in, but are trying to save up enough money to make a down payment on the land and house at the same time. I’m just hoping the land isn’t sold before we can get it. But, if it is, it is and we’ll have to find something else. Saving up a down payment wouldn’t be as hard if Riley wasn’t in private school. I’ve said before that the local public school system here leaves much to be desired. Holden went to private school and Riley is still there. Unless some drastic changes are made to our school system he will be there until he graduates. So, in addition to saving up for the down payment we are also saving up for a tuition payment. <br /><br />● My wedding anniversary is on March 11th. We will have been married for 10 years. I really do love Michael more now than when we got married. We’ve been through a lot together the past 10 years, the toughest being Riley’s diagnosis. Somehow we always make it through. I love him very much and I am very blessed to have found him. We don’t really have plans to do anything special. We had talked about going away for a couple of days, but had to nix that plan due to a) my mom’s health b) trying to save money for a down payment and c) not wanting to take any more time off of work because I’m already taking time for my surgery. Like I said Holden will be home this week, so I’m sure we’ll go out Friday and eat and go to a movie of something while Holden watches Riley for us. It’s not important what we do, what’s important is that we made it this far and we’re more in love than ever. It’s nice to know I can trust him and that he will always be there for me. Knowing that whatever I go through I don’t have to do it alone is a big comfort to me.<br /><br /><br />Geez, I guess that’s enough for one day. I really don’t need to go so long without posting anymore. I will try to post again soon, but I’m not making any promises. I’m going to be busy cleaning house and pre-preparing meals…</span>Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-679670449055401672010-02-04T12:10:00.002-05:002010-02-04T12:14:35.486-05:00Kinder than necessary<span style="font-size:130%;">I started to write a blog post and deleted it. It was just way too negative. I have a lot going on in my life right now. My mom is still sick with no answers, a piece of land we were looking at to build a house fell through, I have to have surgery…<br /><br />Anyway, not going into details about the negative today. It’s just too easy to get sucked into a black hole when I think about it.<br /><br />So, a few positives…<br /><br />** Holden is doing great in college. Last semester he got 4 A’s and 2 B’s. The B’s were in his easiest classes (sociology and music). If he had done what he needed to do in those classes he would have had a 4.0. But, I’ll take a 3.7. It’s not too shabby either.<br /><br />He’s enjoying college and doing well living on his own. He has yet to bring home even one item of dirty clothes for me to wash. It makes me think I didn’t do such a bad job raising him after all.<br /><br />Also, his birthday is tomorrow. He will be 19. I can’t believe it’s been 19 years. They really have flown by.<br /><br /><br />** Riley’s sugars have begun to behave for the most part. He’s had a few lows and a few highs. He was going into the 300s at least once a day, but that hasn’t happened in a while. His nighttime numbers, which have always been a challenge, have been great lately. I’m just going to try and enjoy it while I can. I know tomorrow everything can change and I’ll be cursing his meter again.<br /><br /><br />** On the diabetes front, Riley’s pump warranty expires next week. I am already in the works to get an Animas Ping. He has an Animas 2020 now and we love it. The Ping has a remote and I cannot wait for that. Right now he keeps his pump in a pocket sewn into the inside of his pants. So, we have to dig around in the pocket every time he needs to bolus. And, when he’s strapped into the car it’s even more of a pain. So, yay to diabetes technology!! I can’t wait to get the remote for his pump.<br /><br />** I saw this quote in a doctor’s office the other day and it really struck a cord with me. Like I said before, I have quite a few things causing stress in my life right now. But, I am truly blessed all at the same time. Anyway, this quote reminded me that everyone has their own things that they are going through. We often have no idea what the bank teller is going through or our waitress at a restaurant, or even our co-workers for that matter. So, we shouldn’t be so quick to jump to conclusions about people.<br /><br />The quote is: “"Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle."<br /><br />Truer words were never spoken…</span>Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-40377415055908636402010-01-19T09:43:00.001-05:002010-01-19T09:59:31.712-05:00Endo Rant and an Ode to Dr. M<span style="font-size:130%;">Riley had his endo appointment on Friday. His A1C had gone up from 7.2 to 7.8. I wasn’t surprised. On the way to the appointment Riley and I took a guess as to what his A1C would be. I said 7.8 and he said 8.1. I’m glad, at least, that I was right and he was wrong.<br /><br />December was pretty rough on his numbers. There were highs and lows (mainly highs) with no pattern to them. Still, I knew I hadn’t been on top of his numbers like I should. I knew I didn’t adjust basals as often as I should. I have no excuse as to why. I just know I could have, should have, done better.<br /><br />This was our second visit to this endo. Our first visit was quite pleasant. I liked him and he was quite pleased with Riley’s A1C of 7.2 and said his goal for Riley was 7.5. Last time he didn’t recommend much of anything other than a slight little basal increase. He didn’t like that Riley’s basals were a little higher than his bolus, but other than that he was pleased. He did say that sometimes when basals get like that he orders to have the child to go on a set basal rate all day. That was not a pleasant thought for me.<br /><br />I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Riley’s A1C would be above 7.5, so I wondered what the doctor would say this time. I didn’t know him well enough to know if he’d fuss at me or not.<br /><br />The nurse came in first. She looked at the numbers and graphs I had printed out from excel. She looked at his basal to bolus ratio. I told her we’d had a rough couple of months to which she replied, “I can see that.” Then, she made a comment that he had one night that he was 57 at 3 AM and another where he was 315. She just raised her eyebrows like that had never happened before. But, unfortunately it has, way too many times to count. That is why I have been sleep deprived for the past 4 ½ years. <br /><br />Then, she wanted to know how often we change sets. I told her every 3 days. She suggested we try every 2 days instead to see if that helped. I told her that I really didn’t want to do that, that a needle stick every 3 days was enough. I also told her that Riley goes low with most site changes, even though I don’t fill his canula and decrease his basal 60% for 3.5 hours. It’s just one of those things. (Not to mention the increased cost…)<br /><br />She looked at me and said, “It’s because it’s fresh insulin. That’s why he goes low.” <br /><br />I looked at her and said nothing. I know from my (almost) 4 years of experience with the pump that it is not fresh insulin. That’s what I used to think too. But, there have been times when Riley’s insulin was starting to get low and it wasn’t quite time for a site change and I just put in fresh insulin without changing his set and he didn’t go low at all. She went on to say that since that is what causes the lows that changing every 2 days would make more sense because the insulin wouldn’t seem as new.<br /><br />Huh? She lost me there. Again, I looked at her and said nothing. Then she said we’d see what the doctor said about it.<br /><br />She checked out Riley’s pump sites and said they looked fine. Then, she checked out his feet, which, thankfully, were fine too.<br /><br />Then, I mentioned how I knew his A1C would be up. She went out to check and came back saying it was 7.8. I guess she saw me cringe and she said, “Oh, don’t worry about that. We have kids that come in with 9’s and 10’s.” Then, she shut the door and walked away.<br /><br />Then, the doctor came in. He said that Riley’s A1C was up from last time but that it was still “very good”. He went on to say that his goal for Riley was 8.0, so 7.8 was just fine. So, let me get this straight? When he was 7.2 his goal was 7.5, but now that he’s 7.8 his goal is 8.0? I don’t get it. I don’t go to the doctor’s office to be pacified. I go there for help. I don’t go to get a pat on the back and to get told I’m doing a good job when I know that I’m not. They didn’t even ask how often I’d been logging and adjusting basals. <br /><br />Then, the doctor went on to say, “I’ve had kids in here who’s A1Cs were 13 or 14. So, 7.8 is good.”<br /><br />Let me just stop here. I have NEVER compared my kids with other kids. I have NEVER compared standards for my kids with other people’s kids. I HATE it when people do that. My son is not everyone else’s son. He is my son and I know what his A1C could be. That’s like Holden or Riley making a “C” in a class. They have always been capable of straight A’s. It doesn’t matter to me that everyone else in the class made a C too. What matters is that I know what kind of grades my children are capable of making. I also know that some kids are just not capable of that. Some kids are happy if they make a “D” and they really worked for that D. I know that. I work in a school system. Every child is not the same. And, if my children were only capable of making a C or D, then I’d be quite pleased with a C. But, they are capable of all A’s and B’s so that’s what I expect. I really, really don’t care what the kid next to them made. <br /><br />If I were only capable of having Riley’s A1C in the high 7’s, then I guess I’d have to be OK with that. But, I know I’m capable of better, at least for now. I also know that once he hits puberty and his hormones go all out of whack I might be elated to have it at 7.8.<br /><br />Furthermore, I know there are parents reading this right now who would be thrilled with a 7.8 and don’t understand why it bothers me. I know parents who are very vigilant with their children’s logging and adjusting of basals and they still don’t see 7’s very often. For whatever reason, their children’s sugars are harder to stabilize. Which brings me back to my earlier point that everyone is different and shouldn’t be compared to one another. <br /><br />Now, that I’ve ranted about that for a bit, let me say that the 7.8 didn’t upset me all that much (contrary to all the stuff I just said). I knew that’s what it would be and I knew what I needed to do to see that change. He’s been that high before and I’ve gotten it down. I also know that it happens from time to time and you make adjustments and move forward. <br /><br />What got me was the constant comparing of how bad his number could have been, that his A1C wasn’t a “bad” as a lot of kids. I kind of felt like I was being chastised for caring about his A1C.<br /><br />OK, let me continue with my rant, which at this point, is probably incoherent to most of you.<br /><br />The doctor went on to say that Riley’s basal to bolus ratio was dead-on. It was 50/50 just like it should be. But, you see, I know that Riley does better with it being 45/55 or so. I know that doesn’t seem like a big difference but with his tiny doses, it is. For example if his total daily dose of insulin is 16, then a 50% basal would be 8.0. A 55% basal would be 8.8. To the adults out there, that may not seem like much of a difference. But, for Riley it is a huge difference. And, I know from experience that’s really where it needs to be. <br /><br />Then, the doctor goes on to say that sometimes parents do too much. And, then went on to say that I am one of those parents. He said I needed to back off a bit and stop checking so often. He said that there was no reason to check Riley 2 hours after he had breakfast because I knew he’d be high anyway. First off, I don’t check Riley 2 hours after he eats unless he says he feels low or something. The only time Riley’s sugars are checked is at meals and snacks and if he says he feels low. He is also checked a couple of times in the middle of the night. I’ve already gone over why we do that. For example, Riley eats breakfast at 7 AM, he is not checked again until 10:45 AM when he is about to eat lunch at school; then, again at 1:45 PM for snack. Excessive, I don’t think so. Often, unless he says he feels low, he’s not checked again until between 5-6 PM when he eats supper. <br /><br />Secondly, when I’m trying to get his basals right I’ll probably test more. Because, guess what? I don’t want him in the 300s every single day 2 hours after breakfast. That can be fixed most of the time. Plus, how do I know what his carb coverage should be without testing after meals? (Man, you should see me typing this right now. I bet my keyboard is glad it doesn’t have feeling.) <br /><br />Then, the best part of all, the doctor told me that because I was doing <strong>too much</strong> for my child, I had probably gotten his basals all out of whack. He didn’t quite use those words, but that’s basically what he said. He then said he had taken Riley’s total basal and divided it by 24 and come up with 0.35. He said he wanted Riley’s basal to be 0.35 all day and all night. Then, he said he wanted his carb coverage to be the same all day too. <br /><br />I had kept my mouth shut up until then but when he said that I had to say something. Riley’s carb coverage is about the same all day, for the most part, anywhere from 25-27g. But, at breakfast, it is 20g. It has to be. Otherwise he’d be really, really high. When I told him that he said, “OK, we’ll keep his breakfast coverage at 20g”, like he was throwing me a bone or something.<br /><br />And, I was thinking, “You’re darn right I’m keeping it at 20g. I don’t need your permission to do that.”<br /><br />Anyway, that’s the gist of what went on. He handed me my instructions and sent us on our way. <br /><br />I know I’ve made him sound like a horrible person. But, I don’t really think that he is. I think it all boils down to the fact that we had the very best endo in the world before. After you’ve had the best, everyone else pales in comparison.<br /><br />Dr. M would have looked at those sugars in the middle of the night and said, “Why do you think he was 57 one night and 315 the next? Was it increased activity? Did he eat something different for supper?” And, if there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary she would chalk it up to just one of those things and move on.<br /><br />She would always ask Riley how he was doing. The question she always asked him, without fail, even when he was 3, was: “Is diabetes keeping you from doing anything you want to do?” She always asked how school was going and how soccer was. During this endo visit Riley lay on the bed reading a book the whole time. The only thing the doctor asked him was what he got for Christmas. Otherwise, it was like he wasn’t even in the room.<br /><br />Riley always answered Dr. M’s question with a “no”. But, I know that if he ever said yes, she and he would come up with a plan of how to change it. <br /><br />Also, when Riley’s A1C was up to 7.8 she would say she was OK with it, but she knew I wasn’t so we’d sit and figure out what to do about it. On our very first visit, she brought up how much we were checking in the middle of the night. When I told her why, she never brought it up again. <br /><br />Dr. M would always make suggestions about what to do and then ask me what I thought. There were times when our opinions differed. She always said that she trusted my instincts and we’d try it like I wanted it. She said more than one time she would look at his basals and wonder why it was like it was and then she’d look at his sugars and see why I had done what I had done. <br /><br />I guess it all boils down to the fact that Dr. M may have gone to years and years of medical school and she had years and years of pediatric endocrinology under her belt, but, she still realized that, when it came down to it, I was the expert when it came to my son. My 4+ years of experience with his disease trumped her 30+ every time. Because, we all know everyone with D is different. There are no cookie cutters when it comes to this disease. Dr. M got it. I’m afraid many doctors do not.<br /><br />OK, rant over. I don’t despise Riley’s doctor. I think he’s doing what he thinks is best. I don’t have plans to change endos any time soon. (unless, Dr. M comes out of retirement) <br /><br />And, by the way, I didn’t make Riley’s basals 0.35 across the board. I made a few basal changes and that was it. I’m not saying that the time won’t come that I might have to try it, but that time is not right now. <br /><br />When, I was talking to Michael about it, he said, “What would Dr. M tell you to do?” I said she would tell me to trust my instincts and he said that is exactly what I should do.<br /><br />So, right or wrong, that’s what I’m doing. </span>Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-4701822403441688192010-01-05T09:43:00.001-05:002010-01-05T09:46:07.049-05:00Rambling Ranting Time<span style="font-size:130%;">I’ve had lots of blog posts running through my mind lately. But, due to some sort of virus issue with my computer I’ve been unable to get onto blogger. I finally found a solution to the problem today.<br /><br />Where do I start?<br /><br />Frustration…yeah, that’s where I will start. Riley’s sugars have been out of control for the past month or so. He’s gone high several times a day, with no obvious rhyme or reason to it, no pattern, no red- flag- here’s-where-you-need-to-adjust-basals, and, no obvious need for a basal increase. By “obvious need for a basal increase” I mean his ratio is dead on. I learned a long time ago that Riley’s basal needs to be about 55% of his total daily dose of insulin. Well, it is. Yet, still the highs. I say high, but he woke up with a blood sugar of 66 this morning. That, after going to bed with a sugar of 351. <br /><br />I know I’ve been there and done that before, yet still frustrating. And, I know I shouldn’t focus on his A1C, but I can’t help it. His last one was 7.2. His new endo was amazed at it and thought it was great. Well, we go back next week and, somehow, I don’t think he’s going to be quite as amazed. I’m guessing 7.8, if we’re lucky. Aggggghhhhhhh!!!! I just want to scream. But, experience tells me that it won’t help, it will only give me a sore throat.<br /><br />Maybe he’s growing? That’s what I usually blame for the wacky sugars. Another problem is that Riley has been out of control hungry lately. By that, I mean he is asking for food on an almost hourly basis. He’s started checking his sugar more frequently claiming he feels low (he rarely is). I think he’s checking because he hopes his sugar is low enough to eat. And, who am I to deny him food? Yet, he’s usually in the 200s when he checks and he just ate an hour before, and……<br /><br />Agggggggggghhhhhhhhh!!! (Yeah, still not helping.)<br /><br />Every time I tell him he can’t eat, I feel guilty. Yet, if I let him eat and his sugar is high I feel guilty too. Still, in the back of my mind I have this nagging feeling that by not letting him eat whenever he wants it is going to bring up issues of control later. <br /><br />Maybe his carb coverage needs adjusting? Maybe I just need to let him eat and let the chips fall where they may. His sugars are sucky anyway, he might as well eat. It doesn’t help that there are still a few holiday treats at the house. Santa is forbidden from bringing chocolate and candy next year. <br /><br />I guess the best thing to do is let him eat, but keep it low carb and healthy? Sounds good on paper. Doesn’t translate so well into the real world.<br /><br />I am just so sick of this disease. Diabetes has a way of making me feel like a failure. I feel like I’m not doing enough for Riley, yet, strangely, at the same time, like I’m doing too much. How does that work? </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">OK, rambling ranting time is over. Any suggestions would be appreciated. I know he needs to eat, he’s obviously growing, but any suggestions on what to do about his basals? <br /><br />I have good things going on too, lots of them. I am blessed beyond measure. I am excited about what 2010 might bring. <br /><br />Yet, today, I just need to vent about this stupid, terrible, very bad disease that makes me want to pull every hair out one by one. </span>Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-17998056438121503892009-12-17T08:53:00.001-05:002009-12-17T08:56:06.354-05:00Going Solo<span style="font-size:130%;">The birthday party/sleepover was last Friday. At snack time at school Riley’s teacher called to tell me that everything was fine but that Riley didn’t want to eat his snack. It is VERY unusual for Riley not to want to eat, so I asked her what was going on with him. She said she thought he was just excited about the party. Since the party was right after school, I told her to tell him he had to eat snack since I didn’t know when he’d be eating again.<br /><br />I picked Riley up right after school and took him to his friend’s house. The friend only lives about 10 minutes away. On the way there I asked Riley why he didn’t want to eat snack. He said that it was his stomach. I asked if his stomach hurt, to which he replied: “No, it just kind of feels like it does before a soccer game.”<br /><br />I told him that just meant he was excited about the party. Then he said he was excited, but he was nervous too. I quickly went into, “Everything will be fine. You are a big boy and you know what to do to take care of yourself. And, I’ve talked to Mrs. B. about everything and she knows what to do for you too.” It upset me a little to know that he was nervous about “going solo” for the first time. But, it also made me proud that he cared. He could have just had the mindset that he wouldn’t bother with his diabetes while he was there. <br /><br />When he got to the friend’s house all of the kids where playing in the long driveway. I dropped Riley off to play with them and checked one last time to make sure he had the cell phone in his pocket. <br /><br />When I got to the house the mom and I chatted for a while. Then, I took a deep breath and handed her Riley’s bag with his juice and machine in it. Once again, I found myself reassuring yet another person that everything would be fine, when I wasn’t so sure of it myself.<br /><br />As I left I saw Riley running around the yard playing with his classmates. Right then I felt a peace about it. I knew I had made the right decision to let him go to the party and to let him try it on his own.<br /><br />Not only did I leave him at the party alone, but then I left to go shopping an hour away. Of course, my mom and Holden where only a few minutes away from Riley if anything were to arise that Riley couldn’t handle on his own.<br /><br />Fortunately, nothing like that ever happened.<br /><br />Riley called at around 5:30. “Hey, Mom, my sugar is 190 and I’m getting ready to eat pizza and some chips.” I told him to call me back as soon as he was done and tell me how much of everything he had eaten. <br /><br />About 15 minutes later he called again. “Hey. I ate one piece of pizza, 3 cheese doodles, a cookie, and a piece of cake.”<br /><br />I asked him if he ate the pizza crust too so I’d have a better guess of the carb count. I did the best I could estimating carbs without actually seeing the food. He bolused while on the phone with me and then, he was off to play some more. <br /><br />At around 9:15 I hadn’t heard anything else from him. I knew he probably needed to eat a snack soon so I called him. <br /><br />“We’re outside starting a fire to roast marshmallows.” I told him to call me when he was done.<br /><br />A little while later, “I ate 2 marshmallows and my sugar is 180.” Since I didn’t know the carb count right off hand I asked him to ask the mom to read out the serving size and the amount of carbs. Once again, he bolused while on the phone with me. <br /><br />A few minutes later the phone rang again, “We’re having weenies too.” I made sure they were not putting them on buns before I told him not to worry about the carbs for the weenies. <br /><br />I didn’t hear from him anymore that night. Michael went to pick him up at the designated time, 1 AM. He said they were lying in the floor watching a movie and that most of the kids were already asleep.<br /><br />I was sitting on the couch waiting when they pulled into the driveway at about 1:15. The smile on Riley’s face was priceless. A check of his sugar before tucking him in reveled that it was 71. He drank a juice and got a basal decrease and drifted off to sleep.<br /><br />The night was a complete success. I am so proud of my little man for doing such a great job at the party. He did everything just like he should. It’s just another assurance that he really is going to be OK and that this disease does not hinder him, it only makes him stronger. </span>Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-18463534323122856952009-12-09T19:06:00.003-05:002009-12-09T19:22:40.668-05:00What if....<span style="font-size:130%;">The sleepover that I posted about earlier is Friday. While Riley will not be spending the night, he will be attending by himself.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Riley has never been on his own at a birthday party before. I always attend parties. This same boy had a party last year and Michael and I were the only parents who stayed. I tried to blend in, but somehow don't think anyone thought I was really a 7 year old boy. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Like a drug dealer I would pull Riley over to the side. There were a few whispers and a black bag and discussions of being high. Then, I'd deliver the drug and he'd run off to play some more.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Riley has gotten to the age that he really wants to go on his own. And, I'm OK with that. Or, at least I'm trying to convince myself that I'm OK with it. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Riley checks his own sugars and gives his own insulin every day at school. I know he knows what to do. I know he'll be OK. Plus, I've given the mom a heads up about what needs to be done. Riley is going to take a cell phone with him. He will call me at every sugar check and every time he eats. I will count carbs over the phone the best I can and pray for the best. My biggest fear is lows. I don't mind if he runs high as much as if he has lows while there. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">As I write this he has fallen asleep on the couch. This after a pretty brutal low that struck with over 2 units of insulin on board. I decreased his basal and he got a snack and a juice, but it still kicked his butt. I just decreased his basal a little more. I will sit and wait for the impending high.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">What if this happens at the party? I don't know. I'll deal with it the best way I know how. And, I've learned over time you just can you live your life for the what ifs. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Even though I've learned not to live according to the what ifs, they still scare the hell out of me. </span>Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19128701.post-38738224560946844262009-12-04T11:07:00.004-05:002009-12-04T11:23:22.540-05:00Just When I Think I'm Out, You Pull Me Back In<span style="font-size:130%;">I just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone for your kind comments after <a href="http://www.threeyearsfree.blogspot.com/2009/12/sometimes-youve-just-gotta-let-it-out.html">yesterday's post</a>. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I have been neglecting this blog for quite some time. I do check in on the occasional D-blog every now and then and even comment sometimes. But, I've been out of touch with D-<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">blog ville</span> for a while.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Even so, whenever I need you guys you are always there to lend an ear or a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">virtual</span> hug. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I cannot express how your comments have helped. First, to know you've had the same issues with sleepovers made me feel like I'm not alone and neither is Riley. We are all fighting this thing together and doing it to the best of our ability. We all screw up along the way because we are human. I know that all I can do is make what I think is the best decision at the time and learn from that and move on.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Also, I really felt very guilty for the ice cream treat, but you guys made me feel better when you said you would do the same thing. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">When Riley was diagnosed I mainly worried about what the highs and lows were doing to his body. But, as he grows older the emotional and mental aspect seem to bother me more. I guess maybe because I'm a nurse at a high school and see how much certain things can affect a child's life. Parents play a HUGE role in the mental health of their children and I just don't want to screw it up. There is no rule book and we're all just really winging it. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I know that how I handle his D now will help him handle it in the future. Sometimes I just don't feel strong enough to handle it like I should. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">It's nice to know I can come here and you guys will help provide that strength for me.</span>Penny Ratzlaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368479901015692591noreply@blogger.com1