I was told shortly after Jonathan was first diagnosed that we would "find a new normal". At the time, I thought that meant that we would integrate Diabetes into our lives and eventually the wound it opened would heal around it and it would just become a part of us. In a way I guess that's kind of what happened, but I think it went a little beyond that.Yesterday, as I was approaching the verge of a mini-mental collapse over a bunch of BS at work, I sat down with someone to talk and they were surprised about how stressed out I was over the matters at hand. They said, "well, I'm sure things at home aren't helping either." I knew they were referring to dealing with my son's Type 1 and at first I was about to dismiss the notion that it could be a major contributor, but then it suddenly hit me - my little boy's life hangs in the balance of decisions I make every day, he's basically on life support and that which keeps him alive could kill him. We've barely had a solid night's sleep in 20 months and there are many more nights to come... And then it smacked me like a ton of bricks, somehow, some way, this had become "OK". And I thought to myself "WTF!?!?!?!" This is NOT OK. This is not what a 5yr old should have to live with, this is not how a family is supposed to be managing their lives, this is totally wrong.
I think what happened is (and I don't want to give it up, but I think I'll have to change my approach) in all my efforts to make life an normal as possible for Jonathan and the rest of the family, and trying to assure people that things are under control and all is well, I somehow tricked myself into downplaying just how perilous and damning this thing can be.
Then, just last night, after a day of phenomenal numbers (like non-diabetic numbers), Jonathan was a little high at 10pm (13.5 / 243), so I pushed his buttons and didn't really give it a second thought. At 2:30 this morning I did my nightly shuffle into his room to find 2.9 (52). Oh $#!^! 3/4 of a cup of milk and 40 minutes later he was 5.9 (106) - 5.7 at 6am, and 5.9 at breakfast. So what the heck would have happened if I hadn't done my nightly rounds? I shudder to think, especially after a Princess' recent horror. I've never questioned a 13.5 before, that's not totally unusual, and normally a wonky reading is over 20 and that needs to be re-checked.
This morning I got another one. Part of my morning routine is to check the mail, weather, and updates on my phone before moving on to get ready, and there it was on the top of my news feed: