Diabetes is a Joke

So, if you're my friend on facebook or if you've read any of my blog you know that my daughter has diabetes. DJ was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes exactly one year ago yesterday, just before her seventh birthday. (Isn't she cute?) When she was diagnosed I remember being so sad. I honestly don't remember feeling like "why us" or being scared. I have heard horror stories about children being violently ill or even in a coma before finding out they have diabetes. We were lucky enough to have a well child check up and an amazing pediatrician who asked all the right questions and caught it before it progressed to that point, so there was really nothing scarey about the way DJ looked or acted. I also didn't know enough about diabetes to know there was a reason to be scared.

When DJ was diagnosed I was sad because I knew that there was something wrong inside her body that I could not fix and I also thought I must have done something to make this happen. After much education I learned that this wasn't anybody's fault and that as long as we treated DJ's diabetes there was no reason she couldn't live a long, healthy life. Still, I was sad that she had to live with this mess, possibly for the rest of her life.

Something you may not know, there are two things about me that just don't jive too well with diabetes. 1) I love (I do mean LOVE) to sleep and 2) I am terrible at math!

When DJ was diagnosed she was finally old enough to grab a bowl of cereal or a snack and watch cartoons so Mommy could sleep in, just a little. I had just had this realization, and was most happy about it, when she was diagnosed and suddenly I was getting up at 2:00 a.m. every morning to test her (this went on for months) and I still burn a lot of midnight oil taking care of highs and lows and consoling a child that just does not feel well.

What does diabetes have to do with math, you say? We count every gram of carbs that go into DJ's mouth (subtracing dietary fiber if it's a substantial amount), we had to figure out how many points a unit of insulin will lower DJ's blood sugar (this changes as she gets older) and then there is a formula for how many units of insulin she should get depending on how many grams of carbs and what her blood sugar is when she's ready to eat. Now that DJ is on the pump, it does a lot of the work. My main job now is to download all the data from the pump, look for patterns in her numbers and figure out (guess) where to raise or lower her insulin and by how much.

Last night I got to bed after 10:00 p.m. (late for me) and DJ came to me at 3:00 a.m. not feeling well. I had her get in my bed and I tested her, to find out she's over 400 when just five hours earlier I was struggling to get her blood sugar to a safe number (80-180). So, I tested her, gave her some insulin and literally laughed out loud!

I do believe God has a sense of humor and when I find myself getting to my wits end with diabetes I just remind myelf of this and I have to laugh right along with him.