Overnight lows suck!

Ok, really.  He is 19 months old.  When he sleeps, we let him sleep.  Thats how all parents feel about babies.  If they are asleep they are happy, and more importantly, not crying.  So you never wake a sleeping baby, right?  So why  does his body choose 3:45 am to drop to 104 in a falling pattern.  Doctors orders dictate that we treat anything under 150 overnight.  I gave some icing hoping to not wake him up all the way.  Internet surfing at 4:00 in the morning was surreal as I waited the 15 minutes for carbs to kick in.  At 4:15 he was only 120.  In the end, I consulted Shannon, who decided to rock him with a bit of juice.  He woke up at a respectable 206 later this morning.  Exhausted, unhappy with D, but at work none the less.  Tonight will be better, I know it.

Fishing with the boys!

I had a great day today.  We have my Sister-in-law's wedding next month, and my wife and Mother-in-law used today to find THE Mother of the bride dress.  Anyway, I decided not to let being "Shannon-less" scare us into staying in the house.  The boys and I went to church, and actually made it only 5 minutes late.  We came home, got our naps in (I wish I had gotten one), and then got ready for our afternoon outing.

Jackson has been wanting to go fishing forever.  I finally downloaded an app for my Ipod touch, and he goes fishing on that whenever I let him.  To encourage this more, my parents got him a starter fishing rod set for his birthday in March.  I have been promising to take him ever since.  There was never a good time.  Busy life, bad weather, or random laziness always seemed to get in the way.  Dagone it, we were going today!

I decided to take the stroller with us so that Joshua couldn't wander off, plus it was a good base where he could feed the geese.  We got to the park, got Jackson's rod all set up, and the impatience began.  Jackson couldn't understand why he didn't catch a fish every time he threw it in.  He always did on the Ipod :)  I let him tinker away, while I got Joshua ready to feed the geese.  I had taken some old hamburger buns with us, so I ripped them up and put pieces in his stroller tray.  I threw a couple out so that the geese would come over, and he was having a ball.  Then of course I look up and Joshua is eating the "enriched flour", white bread, hamburger buns himself.  In any other situation, with any other child, that would be cute.  Not so much.  Luckily he had only put the one piece in, and he spit it out when I ran over to him.  He gave me this look like, "What, it was just a little piece.  Geez Dad!"  

    

Long story short, we had a great boys day out.  Jackson caught his first fish right before we left.  Joshua had a great time feeding and yelling at the geese.  Shannon had a great day out with her Mom, and I didn't have a coronary caused by "enriched flour", white bread, hamburger buns.  Lets call it a win, shall we?

Funny how stages change?

Isn't it funny how your stages can change back and forth.  I feel like we have moved past denial, anger, and depression to acceptance for the most part.  More often than not, that anger seeps back in.  I woke up this morning to find that our new desk was completely organized, all of the things for Shannon's weekend crop were packed up and set aside to go in the van, and the house was a lot cleaner than when I went to bed.  Now, do I think that the helping fairies came by last night to help out?  No, I think Shannon stayed up until after 3:00 am because she was afraid of sleeping through the early morning BS check, and she needed to stay busy.  I guess I knew that's what happened when I popped out of bed at 3:15 am to turn of my blaring alarm, only to be met at the bedroom door by Shannon telling me to go back to bed.

I get so mad that D brings these worst fears out of us.  We both know that the one night we sleep through that early check could be the one where he is plummeting.  On the very rare occasion that we have missed it, everything was fine, but the guilt ate us up.  I hate how tired we are.  No, check that.  I hate how tired Shannon is.  On most nights, she still makes sure that I get more sleep.  She says it is because I have to get up and go to work, but guess what.  So does she!  Stay at home Moms can't be paid a salary because no amount of money is enough to pay them their worth.  Every few days, she gets so exhausted that she lets me take over the 3:00 am checks for a couple of nights.  I generally take the weekends as well, but I wish there was more.

I hate that D forces us into this.  D sucks!  There is my rant.  I know I am preaching to the choir, but hey, I know you get it!

Why Moms are the glue...

So I was thinking about something today.  My family would be in utter turmoil if not for the day to day actions of my beautiful wife.  I know that I am biased, but I know that there is no one in the world that can do what she does.  We have two wonderful boys, though I very often act like I am under 10 years old, so make that three.  Things are stressful, but they get done.  She is home with the boys while I am at work.  She gets BB to school, and J to his tumbling class.  Play groups and lunches, all while dealing with J's diabetes on her own.  I get to come home in the late afternoon, play with the boys, and then usually sit down to a wonderful meal that she has made.  I actually used to do a lot of the cooking, but with a new job and a part time one in the afternoons, it just isn't conducive for our schedule.  Add on general cleaning and the never ending laundry, and goodness it adds up.

I do what I can to show how much I appreciate her.  More often than not, I let he sleep in on Saturday morning while I do the morning routine of testing, dressing, feeding and covering.  This is often met by initial grumpiness, I think because she doesn't feel like she deserves it.  Believe me, she does.  There is simply no way for me to explain how much she does for our family.  Now, I'm not saying that we would be thrown to the wolves while eating out trashcans if I had to take over.  I am just saying we are in a much better place with her in place as the captain in the trenches.  It is and always has been a partnership, but I know that she is the perfect person to take the stress that we have been dealt.  I could say thank you with every breath that leaves my body, for the rest of my life, and it wouldn't be enough.  I may not say it enough, but I know it.  I hope she does too.

Days don't get worse than that...Day 1

Although it wasn't a typical weekend, at wasn't unusual either.  "Mommy" had left for a Creative Memories conference Friday afternoon which was in Baltimore.  The little guy, Joshua, had been "teething" pretty bad and was out of sorts.  That's pretty typical for an 11 month old, right?  Big brother Jackson was doing a great job of playing with the little guy, and helping me straighten up.  We made it through dinner, the boys took a joint bath, and on came the pajamas.  Joshua had been even more fussy than usual, which had made it very difficult for "Mommy" to leave.  I gave him some Tylenol, rocked him to sleep, and put him in his bed.  As I was getting Jackson ready for bed, Joshua woke up and started screaming.  So Jackson got some water, got kissed, and tucked in.  As I was shutting the door, I heard "THUD", followed by louder screaming.

I ran in to Joshua's room, and sure enough, he had climbed out of the crib.  He had never attempted to climb before, so it was a shock.  I have a background as an EMT for the Virginia Beach rescue squad so I immediately started a trauma assessment.  Eyes were reactive, no red marks or bruising, not guarding anything.  Ok, I decided to call the nurse on call anyway.  She agreed with me, to keep an eye on him, check on him in a few hours, and see how it goes.

I walked in at 3:00 am to find that he had thrown up.  Not good.  That is one of the signs of head trauma.  I called the nurse again, and she said that they only get worried after throwing up multiple times.  She assured me that he was probably fine, but to still stay aware.  I felt better, so I rocked him for a while, enjoyed some cuddles, and put him back in bed.

At 7:00 am I went in to check on him, because he had been waking up pretty regularly at 6:30 am.  I went to the crib, and gave him a little shake.  Then I saw that he had thrown up again.  He grunted, but didn't open his eyes.  I picked him up to get his diaper changed, and he was very lethargic.  My boys are always full of energy, so I was starting to get concerned.  I took another look at his eyes, and they were rolling back into his head.

The next ten minutes are a blur, but I one handedly got the diaper changed, 4 year old dressed and into the van, and we were rolling.  We are blessed to have a great Children's hospital 20 minutes away.  I made it in 15.  On the way I called my wife, my parents, and my in-laws.  My in-laws live close, so they agreed to meet me so they could take care of Jackson.

We made it through check in and into a room in about 10 minutes.  With the knowledge we had, the doctors (Residents) started with the possible head injury.  Initial assessment ruled that unlikely, so they moved on to think it was just a virus wreaking havok.  They wanted to observe and see how he did.  Well, I will tell you, he did not do well.  To see your little 11 month old lying on a hospital bed, not moving, and moaning was not an experience I ever need again.  My in-laws took Jackson to their house and kept him busy and happy.  They wanted me to give Joshua liquids, because they thought he was dehydrated, and then they decided to put in an IV.  Only they couldn't get access.  They called the special team that just puts in IV's and guess what?  They couldn't do it either.  Then they paged the woman with the golden touch, and told me she was on her way. 

At this point, he had not really seen the attending, but she had been supervising.  She came in to see the cute little guy she had been hearing about, and I gave her the run down.  She got that look on her face that you get when you are trying to solve a puzzle.  Then I saw her lean over and smell his breath.  Tears welled up in my eyes as alarms started screaming in my head.  I thought back to my EMT class where we had learned that a fruity smell on the breath is a sign of ketoacidosis which occurs as the body attempts to get rid of excess acetone through the breathing.  This is a major concern for diabetics, but my 11 month old wasn't diabetic, right?  I instantly said "is this when I remind everyone that I am a type-1 diabetic".  She stood still for a second, and then the room was another whirlwind.

The lady with the golden touch got the line started.  They did a quicky blood test that just came back as "high", and sent us straight to the PICU.  He wasn't moving around a lot, and they had put him on several medications for pain and because all of his levels were "off".  Once in the PICU he was attached to several monitors and drips.  He had tubes everywhere, and would occasionally scream for 2-3 seconds and then go back to sleep.  "Mommy" got her very good friend to leave the conference right after I had first called her.  They drove her straight to the hospital (they got a speeding ticket on the way), but she was there. 

I don't know what would have happened if the attending hadn't stopped in to see the "cute boy".  I firmly believe that she saved his life.  I also thank God for sending the angel that pushed him out of his crib. There is no other explanation because he was not a climber and the sides were up!  Bloodwork revealed that his blood sugar level was over 1200.  We spent several days in the PICU, and several more in the hospital recovering.  We had some great nurses.  It was also scary too because they kept saying "it's different because were not really sure what to do since he is so young."  I got really tired of hearing that one.  In the end, we acquired a great Endo team for Joshua, and I got my little boy back.  He had not been acting right, and then we knew that it was Diabetes, and not just teething.  We still beat ourselves up about missing the signs, but I think most people would have.  He was so much happier when we got home.  Our lives had changed for ever, but at least my little guy felt better.

First attempt

Ok, so I used to write a lot.  I actually get a lot of enjoyment of putting words down on the proverbial paper.  Now, have I made time to actually sit down and write in recent years.  No.  I have seen over the last several months how blogging has given my beautiful wife a release, and so, I think I am going to give it a try.  As you can read from the title, I am a D-dad.  Doubly so, in that I have diabetes as well as my now 18 month old son.  To say that things have been hectic since his Dx would be an understatement.  Prior to February of this year, diabetes was an inconvenience that I dealt with on my own because I didn't want to trouble my wife with the details.  I was dignosed as an adult in 2004.  It was quite a shock because I was actually diagnosed after I had lost 50 pounds. 

I had always been a little overweight.  Chubby was just the way it was.  So gearing up for my 10 year high school reunion, I started spinning.  Now, I had worked out in the past, but nothing prepared me for spinning.  They are some hard core bike riders.  Well, 7 months, and 50 pounds later, I felt horrible.  I was always thirst, peeing 3-4 times a night, and the kicker was my eyes.  I could see better with my contacts out.  I was so dehydrated that it had changed the curvature of my eyes.  My eye doctor caught it, and sent me to have my blood sugar checked immediately, and it was 550.

Fast forward 6 years, and now I have an infant with Type 1.  He has a very protective older brother as well.  Now I have to take better care of myself as I am his role model.  I don't know why I wasn't doing it before.  Now we don't do anything where D is not a factor.  It doesn't rule our lives, but it always comes along for the ride.  Well, lets be honest, sometimes it drives and we just have to hold on, but what can you do :)