Wishing you and yours a happy and healthy 2010!
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Thursday, December 24, 2009
cookies for santa
Happy Christmas!
Monday, December 21, 2009
all full up
Two weeks ago, L got a double ear infection. She had to take Omnicef for 10 days, a thick and milky medicine that caused her to shudder the first time she saw it oozing from the bottle into the cup in front of her. She asked, with complete sincerity, "Don't they have this in shot form?". Oh, ha-ha!, we laughed. Who would have thought, just a few months ago, that our child would be asking to take her medicine intravenously? Diabetes, you make even ear infections humorous!
Last week, L tripped over a stool in her classroom and she put her hands out to break her fall. Instead, she broke her wrist. It's not very severe, only aflesh wound bubble fracture, but her doctor sent us to get a cast just to be on the safe side. At the Orthopedist's office, the doctor reviewed L's chart and said breezily, "Looks like you've got a little bit of diabetes, huh?" Oh, ho-ho!, we chuckled. A little bit, you say? Oh sure, JUST A LITTLE BIT. Oh, diabetes, you make even medical professionals say ridiculous things in response to your mere existence.
Today, the cough that had been plaguing L all weekend was joined by a sore chest and high fever, so off we went to the pediatrician again. The doc did a strep swab (negative) but she said that in listening to L's lungs, she heard some crackling, and since L was complaining of pain while breathing, she diagnosed her with Pneumonia, prescribed Zithromax and sent us off for x-rays. I asked the doc if it would be okay to give L some ibuprofen for her fever. She told me that ibuprofen was a bad idea on account of the whole too-much-can-damage-the-liver-and-really-you-want-to-be-careful-with-that-based-on-the-fact that-having-diabetes-increases-your-chance-of-liver-disease business. And at that point, there was no LOL diabetes, with your hidden dangers of taking over-the-counter pain medication. It seems that at that moment in the exam room, I reached my personal laughing-it-off limit. Because I'd been giving ibuprofen to my kid for two straight weeks because she had severe ear pain and also, you know, a broken wrist! And her other doctors never told me about the "maybe not so much with the ibuprofen, mkay?" thing. And sure, I probably should have figured it out myself but at that moment all I could think was, How was I supposed to know that and why didn't the other doctor mention that and hasn't L already been through enough already this year, why do we have to deal with THIS TOO, I mean, COME ON. A 10 year old can only be such a trooper for so long, you know? 38- and 41-year-olds too, for that matter.
So I learned something today. When your strategy for dealing with challenges is to "laugh at even the most inappropriate of moments", there may come a time when your capacity for yukking it up in the face of unfortunate events becomes maxed out. And when that happens, it's okay. Because you probably just needed a good cry anyway. So your daughter can hug you and thank you for making the doctor's appointment for her and your dad can tell you a stupid joke on the phone to make you laugh and your friends can commiserate via texts and keep you company on the phone while you wait for the pharmacy to fill your prescription and when you get home your husband can hug you for 5 minutes in the kitchen and pretty soon you'll be able to laugh again. Even through the tears.
Last week, L tripped over a stool in her classroom and she put her hands out to break her fall. Instead, she broke her wrist. It's not very severe, only a
Today, the cough that had been plaguing L all weekend was joined by a sore chest and high fever, so off we went to the pediatrician again. The doc did a strep swab (negative) but she said that in listening to L's lungs, she heard some crackling, and since L was complaining of pain while breathing, she diagnosed her with Pneumonia, prescribed Zithromax and sent us off for x-rays. I asked the doc if it would be okay to give L some ibuprofen for her fever. She told me that ibuprofen was a bad idea on account of the whole too-much-can-damage-the-liver-and-really-you-want-to-be-careful-with-that-based-on-the-fact that-having-diabetes-increases-your-chance-of-liver-disease business. And at that point, there was no LOL diabetes, with your hidden dangers of taking over-the-counter pain medication. It seems that at that moment in the exam room, I reached my personal laughing-it-off limit. Because I'd been giving ibuprofen to my kid for two straight weeks because she had severe ear pain and also, you know, a broken wrist! And her other doctors never told me about the "maybe not so much with the ibuprofen, mkay?" thing. And sure, I probably should have figured it out myself but at that moment all I could think was, How was I supposed to know that and why didn't the other doctor mention that and hasn't L already been through enough already this year, why do we have to deal with THIS TOO, I mean, COME ON. A 10 year old can only be such a trooper for so long, you know? 38- and 41-year-olds too, for that matter.
So I learned something today. When your strategy for dealing with challenges is to "laugh at even the most inappropriate of moments", there may come a time when your capacity for yukking it up in the face of unfortunate events becomes maxed out. And when that happens, it's okay. Because you probably just needed a good cry anyway. So your daughter can hug you and thank you for making the doctor's appointment for her and your dad can tell you a stupid joke on the phone to make you laugh and your friends can commiserate via texts and keep you company on the phone while you wait for the pharmacy to fill your prescription and when you get home your husband can hug you for 5 minutes in the kitchen and pretty soon you'll be able to laugh again. Even through the tears.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
three months in
We had a meeting with L's teacher and the school nurse last Thursday. It's been three months since diagnosis and L had some ideas about how she wants to manage things at school. She is annoyed about missing so much time in class due to going to the nurse's office three times a day. Since she started testing her own blood glucose at home last month, her dad and I are only responsible for testing her about 10% of the time (usually when she's tired or feels like she has high or low blood sugar). So she decided she was ready for more responsibility at school as well.
Our friends from Germany gave L a small backpack a couple of months ago, and it is perfect for carrying around her brand new glucose monitor kit (We found a blue one! School colors!), as well as the all-important fast-acting crabs. So we had a little sit-down with her teacher and the nurse and reassessed how things will be done at school. L was very eager to take on more responsibility. The first two days were a fantastic start to the next phase of managing the beetski/bestki. On Friday afternoon when I picked L up from school, her teacher mentioned that L was already so proficient at testing herself promptly and discreetly that she didn't even realize she was doing it until after the fact.
Last night there was a school fundraiser at a local bookstore. It's a chance for parents to do some holiday shopping, with a portion of the proceeds going to the school. It's also a chance for the students to run around the store in packs, jabbing each other with balloon swords and jumping out from behind bookshelves. As L ran off with her little posse and her tiny red backpack slung over her shoulder, I took a seat in the cafe, our designated meeting point. I spent the next hour trying my best to act like I was totally cool with her being out of my sight for that long. Whenever there was an announcement over the store speakers, I strained to hear if they were saying my name..."Would the incompetent mother of the diabetic redhead please come to the front register. She told you she would be okay but clearly you should not have listened to her!"
Of course everything was fine and she bounced up to me when it was time to go and complained that she wanted to stay longer and we went to dinner and the restaurant actually had the carb info for the meal she ordered, so that was pretty awesome. Then she and her friend went to order some ice cream for dessert but they only had the nutritional info for their shakes, so the person behind the counter went through the recipe for the shakes and subtracted all the other ingredients (which she *did* know the carb counts for) and measured how many ounces a scoop of ice cream had and was able to give us a pretty accurate carb estimate. So, friends, if you ever go to Potbelly and order a scoop of chocolate ice cream, that's gonna be 33 grams of carbs. But if you want it in a cone, you're on your own!
All in all, a good week. Roll on December...
Our friends from Germany gave L a small backpack a couple of months ago, and it is perfect for carrying around her brand new glucose monitor kit (We found a blue one! School colors!), as well as the all-important fast-acting crabs. So we had a little sit-down with her teacher and the nurse and reassessed how things will be done at school. L was very eager to take on more responsibility. The first two days were a fantastic start to the next phase of managing the beetski/bestki. On Friday afternoon when I picked L up from school, her teacher mentioned that L was already so proficient at testing herself promptly and discreetly that she didn't even realize she was doing it until after the fact.
Last night there was a school fundraiser at a local bookstore. It's a chance for parents to do some holiday shopping, with a portion of the proceeds going to the school. It's also a chance for the students to run around the store in packs, jabbing each other with balloon swords and jumping out from behind bookshelves. As L ran off with her little posse and her tiny red backpack slung over her shoulder, I took a seat in the cafe, our designated meeting point. I spent the next hour trying my best to act like I was totally cool with her being out of my sight for that long. Whenever there was an announcement over the store speakers, I strained to hear if they were saying my name..."Would the incompetent mother of the diabetic redhead please come to the front register. She told you she would be okay but clearly you should not have listened to her!"
Of course everything was fine and she bounced up to me when it was time to go and complained that she wanted to stay longer and we went to dinner and the restaurant actually had the carb info for the meal she ordered, so that was pretty awesome. Then she and her friend went to order some ice cream for dessert but they only had the nutritional info for their shakes, so the person behind the counter went through the recipe for the shakes and subtracted all the other ingredients (which she *did* know the carb counts for) and measured how many ounces a scoop of ice cream had and was able to give us a pretty accurate carb estimate. So, friends, if you ever go to Potbelly and order a scoop of chocolate ice cream, that's gonna be 33 grams of carbs. But if you want it in a cone, you're on your own!
All in all, a good week. Roll on December...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)