There will be no funny or witty in this post. I'm warning you now, and I'll likely take it down, but I need to get this out, need to know that someone in the universe is hearing me, and I need to do it in a place the midget can't see it. She doesn't read my blog. It's not allowed, and it's blocked on her computer. I do that so I can say nasty things about her other parents, post not so appropriate pictures of myself and have a corner of the universe that I don't have to censor myself in relation to her.
It's 1:30 in the morning, and we're having the worst diabetes week we've had since diagnosis. Insane blood glucose numbers, ever increasing insulin needs, ketone testing...and the endless blood sugar testing. My daughter is a pin cushion, and I hate myself each time I jam another needle into her skin, when she winces, but doesn't say anything, when it hurts badly enough that she says "Ow, that one hurt," it feels like razors cutting my heart to ribbons.
170 days since diagnosis. 170 days since I leaned against the wall in the hallway outside the emergency room and allowed myself the luxury of five minutes of tears. 170 days since I called the exgirlfriend and the midget's father in the middle of the night and told them to get to the hospital NOW! 170 days since I watched them strap my daughter to a gurney and load her into an ambulance. 170 days since I heard the term "PICU" and realized that's where my daughter was going. 170 days of trying to readjust to normal, and realize that nothing was ever going to be normal again.
170 means at least 700 finger pricks and 700 injections. And that's assuming that every day we only test four times and give four injections. Which never, ever happens. When she runs high, I give corrections, then check again to see if she's come down. When she runs low, I give sugar, then recheck to make sure she's gone back up. Not even six months in and she's had 1500 holes poked into her body.
I'm sitting here at 1:30 in the morning waiting for it to be 2am so that I can test her again, and then lay down and try to sleep, but I know that I will instead spend the rest of the night waking up every thirty minutes to make sure she hasn't gone low in her sleep, because she doesn't wake up when she goes low while sleeping, which could mean...I can't even bring myself to type the word, can't bring myself to use it in conjunction with my beautiful, precious daughter...but it would be bad, very bad.
On the other hand...when she runs high all night like she has all this week, I think about all that sugar in her blood, and the damage it's doing to her body, knowing that it's coating the blood vessels in her heart and her eyes and her kidneys, another layer of damage, bringing her that much closer irreparable harm. It sickens me, makes me physically ill, makes me want to scream and cry.
170 days of wishing that I could take her place for each finger stick and injection. 170 of wishing I could take away her diabetes. 170 of wishing there was a cure...
2 comments:
What can I say to my youngest daughter who is in constant pain for her daughter? What can I say to my younget daughter whose life consists of her own physical pain and the pain she experiences for her own daughter? What can I say to her when she asks why, when she suffers so much for her midget that is her life? Nothing....nothing I haven't said already, which doesn't take away the Lupus, the Diabetes and the consequences of these horrible devasting diseases.
Laura - don't take this post down...let it stand, as it is - words have power. And even tho you are struggling to understand and overcome all of this, it could be a beacon of light to another mom or dad who is struggling with their pain and their lives with a Type 1 child. To let them know they are not alone - even tho that doesn't take away all the evil, vile things that this disease is and does, they will know they are not alone.
And to let the world know about what goes on in someone's daily life that has to live with their precious child's pain and suffering as well as their own pain and suffering and confusion and all the emotions that are wrapped up in your life.
All I can say is I love you, Laura and Boogie is so loved by her Nana and Papa....and I cry and my heart breaks and hurts because we can't make any of this go away.
I'm so sorry you guys are going through all this. I wish I could be there to help and take some of the pressure off you and let you get some sleep. I will be there tomorrow to help out as much as I can.
Sending you hugs,
Froggiegirl
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