It's D-Blog Day!

The topic this year is: 6 things you want people to know about diabetes. I could fill volumes with what I would like the people in Noah's life to know about his disease, so breaking it down to 6 is a bit of a challenge, but here goes.

1. Type 1 diabetes is a tough disease to manage. From one day to the next, blood glucose can fluctuate with seemingly no explanation. It could be something as simple as stressing over a math test, or eating breakfast a half hour later than usual that can send blood sugars roaming out of the comfort zone and into the danger zone. Chasing a high with a correction bolus, water and exercise sometimes just plain doesn't do the trick. The same goes for pesky lows sometimes, and it can be frustrating knowing that through all your best efforts, diabetes is essentially blowing raspberries at you behind your back.

2. A good thing that came out of this journey is the overabundance of support that's available within the diabetes OC. As the mom of a newly diagnosed little boy 5 years ago, I was pretty much lost in a new world I didn't know how to navigate. My husband and I felt isolated not knowing anyone with whom we could identify. What we needed was someone to ease our fears and let us know that we weren't totally screwing things up. We have received so much help from so many people over the years with everything from recipes, to 504 plan advice. That kind of support is priceless and we are truly grateful.

3. Insulin is not a cure. I saw this on a t-shirt once, and it has since become my mantra any time an opportunity comes to raise funds for research, or to simply answer a question for someone who wants to know more about diabetes. So much more can and will be done in the way of research. For now, insulin is what is available, and we look so forward to the day we can have a more permanent solution. I'm hopeful it will happen in Noah's lifetime.

4. Insulin is the thing that's keeping my son alive.
I can't stress this enough to the insurance company who is refusing to allow us more than 1 bottle per month. When that vial gets low, I get mad and resentful at the fact that insurance companies will practically give away other drugs that to me are frivolous (Viagra, Cialis) and non life-sustaining, but they give me crap about how much insulin Noah is going through. It's not right.

5. We're lucky to have such a constant emphasis on Noah's health and diet. I always say he's one of the healthiest people I know. We have learned how to help him make good food choices, and he has such a healthy attitude towards what he eats. We have always steered him towards trying new things, while at the same time never making him feel like any food is "off limits". He gets to have cake at birthdays and candy at Halloween just like any other kid, but he knows that it's because he makes the right choices all the other days that creates that perfect balance.

6. Type 1 diabetes is a bully and a sore loser. It tries to be all badass, throwing a high blood glucose at Noah right before bed, or surprising him with a nasty low the minute he sits down for a quiz at school. Noah is stronger than diabetes, and always manages to get up in it's face, ,bring his A game, and win in the end. What can I say? The kid is good.

site change

Last Night at our house...

Me: assume the position, kiddo. Which side?
Noah: the right, this time.
Me: you ready?
Noah: not yet...(deep breaths)



Me: ready now?


Noah: hold on...(a few more deep breaths)...okay. OW!
Me: honey, I'm sorry. (eyes filling up) I'm sorry you have to always do this crap.
Noah: It's okay. I have to do it because diabetes just came and got me.

Feeling the pinch

Parenting a child who has type 1 comes with all kinds of challenges. A tough one is identifying with how a high or a low must feel to Noah, because neither me or my husband have diabetes. Noah experiences some symptoms of a low blood sugar that I can see readily : shaky hands and pale, sweaty face. How he feels on the inside is a bit of a mystery to me,and although he's tried to describe the "cruddy feeling" that washes over him, it's not something I can really relate to.

Today, I got to experience a small taste of that cruddy feeling for myself. Since July, I've been seeing a nutritionist to get my weight under control. I've been doing pretty good, too. I've lost 30 lbs. so far, and have about 20 more to go before I reach my goal. Because of the weight loss, my body is a little out of whack- I used to always be hungry and I was told that it was because I constantly snacked and grazed during the day, keeping my blood glucose on the higher end of the scpectrum.

Now that I eat normally, my body no longer craves the constant flow of food, and I'm no longer always feeling hungry to keep up with that demand.
The problem is, even though I'm eating my calories for the day, I don't feel hungry enough to snack between meals at all. That caused a problem for me early this afternoon, right before lunch. I felt shaky and pretty cruddy. I couldn't think straight and became panicky. I wondered out loud; "If this is only half of what a low feels like, it SO sucks".

I grabbed a clementine off the counter, scarfed it and sat- staring at the clock on the microwave a full ten minutes.

And then I did something out of curiosity. I went to the D-Drawer and grabbed Noah's spare test kit and used it. 82 mg/dl.

I guess it's not bad for an adult, right? But all I can think of is that reading came after I ate the clementine, so I wonder what it was before?
I also can't get that feeling of confusion and anxiety out of my head. It was unpleasant and uncomfortable. I imagine my blood sugar wasn't all that low to begin with, but now I see a tiny bit how Noah (or anyone else with diabetes, for that matter) feels when a low starts. I'm amazed at how anyone going through a low can even function enough to go through the motions of a blood glucose test, let alone rummage around for something to treat the low afterward.

I'm also amazed at the fact that most type 1's test 10 times a day, because my pinky finger still hurts from the lancet. (yep, I'm a baby) I don't know how you guys all do it...all day...every day. Yeah, I got a small taste of what it's like, and it made a big impact.

Health care plan woes.

My husband's employer brought the hammer down and informed us that they are dropping Tufts Health Care...which of course is the insurance we have. It's also the insurance we love. The coverage has been great- we've never had to pay for an insulin pump, our copays are low, and I actually like talking to the helpful staff at member services (God knows they've heard from me enough over the years).
Now comes the daunting task of reviewing insurance plans. I have 3 choices- all plans offered by Blue Cross, Blue Shield.

A side note: Our dissatisfaction with BCBS is the reason we switched to Tufts in the first place. BCBS sent an outrageous bill totaling upwards of $10,000 to us after the birth of Noah, claiming we had to pay out of pocket for a c-section and 4 day hospital stay. The reason? They had no physical proof of my admittance to the hospital. Seriously? Hey, this baby here isn't physical proof enough for ya? True story.

Ok, so needless to say, my expectations that any of our options is going to offer us a vast improvement over what we currently have are lacking. There's also this scary feeling that I'll miss something, and be stuck with a plan that could possibly hurt Noah health-wise. I've heard so many stories of people with type 1 diabetes fighting with their insurance companies over coverage. What's going to happen when Noah's doctor wants to try a CGM and insurance says "no"? I wouldn't back down from a "no", but I'd rather not have to fight over it in the first place.
I understand and appreciate that we are VERY lucky to have any coverage at all. I want the best possible everything for him, and honestly, I don't want to screw this up.

Talk. Listen. Repeat.

Some people like a challenge. It makes them work harder- try to prove something to themselves or others. I guess I fall into that category most of the time, but recently it's been hard for me to get through the D stuff with a smile on my face and my usual unwavering fighting spirit. The numbers make me angry. The cost worries me. I have lost sleep over the minute details of diabetes too many nights to count.

It's no wonder that the needs of the one person in the center of all this- Noah - the most important person, in fact, get lost in the shuffle. My mind is constantly on numbers, strips, ratios, research, money...
Yes, all that is important and won't go away, but I realized recently that paying so much attention to those details has taken my focus away from helping Noah with the challenges he faces every day. I'm so used to being a cheerleader- encouraging Noah to go with the flow and, doing the whole, "we're not afraid of dumb old type 1 !" thing , that I fail to see that he might be struggling in his own way.

It's time to stop, keep quiet and really listen to Noah without jumping up all full of piss and vinegar wanting to conquer his fears. I might be surprised to find he doesn't want a cheerleader...just a mom.

Words make a difference.

Noah was lucky to receive a TON of mail from us and the rest of our family while he was at camp. He was eager to share it with us, and so as we helped him unpack I paused to read each one. A cute card in particular (from a very close family member) caught my eye and I read the short message of encouragement once...twice...a third time. I couldn't believe what I was reading, as my eyes repeatedly ran across the scrawl. Amid the uplifting message, one phrase had my maternal instinct rising up in a fireball of fury.

Quoting from card: "It must be nice to know you're not the only one with this problem."

Problem. Problem. Really?

Not having enough toll money is a problem. Being stuck on the elliptical machine next to overly sweaty guy is a problem. Lindsay Lohan's appeal and fame is a problem...

This very close family member has been consistently lacking in any desire to learn more about Type 1 from the start, (no matter how many times we explain to her that Noah is on no dietary restrictions, she always plays Food Cop with us) so I shouldn't be all that surprised or expect anything more than ignorance on her part, but this message was written to Noah from someone he's supposed to trust. He's 11. He has Type 1 diabetes, and will continue to have Type 1 Diabetes always. He knows this. He doesn't need negativity and to be told what he's got is a problem.

Take care of you.

Playing house was something I did with the other little girls I grew up with, and we played for hours. I was always the "mom". I loved it, and looking back, I think that instinct of caretaker was something woven into the fabric of me from the start.

Being a wife and mother, and being good at it is something that's very important to me. I always worked full time, but when Noah was born, it was so hard for me to leave him with daycare every day. I cried most mornings during my commute, and most nights, I crept in to his dark room to lean over the crib to kiss my already sleeping baby good-night. I missed him terribly. I became a stay at home mom not long after Noah turned two.

I loved being home, and taking care of my family. It was fulfilling to me- just being there, ready to offer comfort, food, a laugh, or company whenever they needed me. To me, being needed meant I was important. I worked on decorating our first house. I crafted, painted, cooked, and threw parties. If Noah's class needed cupcakes for a party, I volunteered. A friend needed a babysitter? Me again. I earned the good- natured nickname "Martha Stewart" from my family, and made good friends in the neighborhood.

The most important thing I did not do? I didn't notice when my identity got right up, and quietly walked out the door.

I thought being a good caretaker meant giving every ounce of myself, or else it would make me look selfish. Therefore, I rarely did anything for me. It got even worse after Noah was diagnosed with T1, because this sense of "nobody can take care of him like me" swept over me like a hurricane. Diabetes naturally became the summit to the mothering mountain I climbed up and down every day.

Unfortunately, trying to be all things to everyone took a physical toll on me. My weight had always been an issue since before I got married, and it fluctuated every time a big life change came knocking. I didn't exercise regularly. I didn't eat anything that would be considered healthy. Pretty, girlie clothes were not something I would choose for myself. I opted instead for baggy, shape concealing sweats. I felt invisible, and rightly so, because that's kind of what I created for myself.

About a year and a half ago, after almost a decade of feeling blue, tired, and generally shitty all the time, I agreed to go with my friend to the gym. It was the first step to making some huge changes in my life. I got stronger, and more confident. I started to care about me for the first time in (I now realize ) my whole life. I learned it's okay to say no to some things. More importantly, I learned to say yes. Yes to new experiences. Yes to life.

Above all, I have learned that to be able to be the very best wife and mom I can be, I've got to be caretaker to myself first. After that, all the good things fall into place.

A new day in America

"This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment. This is our time – to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American Dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth – that out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope, and where we are met with cynicism, and doubt, and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people:

Yes We Can. Thank you, God bless you, and may God Bless the United States of America." - President Elect, Barack Obama.

Yes, history has been made. This campaign has been nothing short of extraordinary, and I am grateful for being able to cast my vote, and for participating in our Nation's unfolding history.

As a diabetes community, this time of transition is more important than ever for us to be active participants in raising awareness about all types of diabetes, and to let our new President know that our goals of education, advocacy, funding research and ultimately finding a cure for diabetes is of paramount importance. It's been proven that we can be heard. Our dedication to our cause can and will be recognized. November is Diabetes Awareness Month, and in just nine days, we will be celebrating World Diabetes Day. I implore us all to take the momentum of change and run with it, by writing, talking, and through our actions.

We have been witness to what can be done when you have a dream...an idea that is given a chance to flourish, and a desire for more than the status quo. It certainly is a new day.

The reality of it.

Running away from the whole diabetes thing seems so appealing as of late. I'm sure anyone that's been affected by diabetes in it's many forms can commiserate with me. At around 4:30 the other morning, Noah crawled into bed with us, feeling low. Normally, I don't get worried when he's low- we just go through the motions of testing, juicing and re-checking in a robotic sort of way.

This time though, I could hear a whisper of fear in Noah's sleepy voice as my husband tested his blood glucose (it was tough even getting any blood...his fingers were so cold that morning) first once, only to get an error message, and then again. Not one to usually complain, Noah let down his guard down, and quietly exhaled, "I hate pricking my fingers"...

I hugged him close, and reassured him that it's okay to feel that way from time to time, and that we're so proud of him for putting up with all that he does every day.

Noah's frustration over that morning's testing didn't stay with him for long. He followed through with his day with his usual exuberance, and happiness that I love so much about him, but for me, that sinking sick feeling of not being able to "fix" my child wouldn't stop it's nagging. How I wish I could chase diabetes away, protect him from it, or take it on as my own. He never gets a break. His fingers and pump sites always hurt. He constantly has to plan, and put aside the spontaneity of youth. It worries me when the cracks in Noah's diabetes armor start to show. Even though it's been 3 years and counting, I still feel like like a diabetes newbie, and I don't always know the right things to say or do when it comes to helping him navigate life with d.

How do you push through the rough times?

Make your own!

(click picture to make it bigger)
Wordle. Go there and be creative.

Yesterday at CVS

Noah animatedly bounces ahead of me, the Tigger to my Pooh-Bear. "Mom, I need mouthwash", he says, brightly.

He grabs his brand as my hands are already full with a few womanly necessities (tampons?- check! razor blades?- TEN BUCKS!!).

Bounding ever further away, he rounds the corner by the pharmacy and stops at the display of the varied blood glucose meters on the shelf and pokes at the buttons.

I finally catch up, still grumbling to myself about the outrageous cost of personal hygiene products, and say to Noah jokingly, "looking to trade up"? We both laugh at our inside D-joke, as a man that was waiting nearby for his prescription interjects,"hey buddy- those aren't Game Boys" (chuckle, chuckle).

I saw a flash of red, and instantly calmed my instinct to snap, "thank you, but he knows that all too well". I smiled and bit my tongue.

Without missing a beat, Noah answered him with, "those are blood glucose monitors, and I'm type 1 diabetic- I have an insulin pump."

The man smiled kindly at Noah and replied "you are very lucky". (chuckle, chuckle again)

I honestly don't know why, but hearing him say that enraged me. LUCKY?! I wanted to scream, "sure, buddy!! If you think lucky is a fucking busted pancreas out of the blue at age six , lancing your fingers until they bleed 10 times a day, having to be woken out of a sound sleep to choke down a juice box, shots, long needles inserted into your ass for a site change every 2 days, cutting activities and recess and sleep -overs short because of site problems and crazy blood sugars, feeling like you're so different from everyone else even though everyone tells you you're not but you're 10 years old and no dummy, yeah if that's lucky, then he's the diabetic with the pot o' gold at the end of the fucking rainbow."

Instead, with my eyes full and shimmering in the fluorescence of CVS, I smiled in return and lied, "yes, he's very lucky"

July in a flash.

3 weekends ago...

The countdown to the preparations for Noah's 10th birthday was on. On that Saturday my mom volunteered to have him for a sleep over so Jon and I could shop for gifts, and have a long overdue date night. His BG had been running on the high side, and correction bolus after correction bolus came and went with not even a downward nudge. By 11 p.m., it was clear that his site was no good. My mom brought him home, and they made a plan for a re-do sleepover the next weekend. It was the first time I've seen Noah cry over his diabetes since his diagnosis, and it was a killer.

2 weekends ago...

We hit the ground running after Noah's endo appointment, and small get together at my grandfather's place to celebrate Noah's birthday on Friday, and picked up speed on Saturday for the 1st Annual New England Diabetes Meetup. Put together beautifully by Bernard , it was a wonderful experience. Jon and I learned alot, and met some incredibly smart, witty, and kind people. We got great advice about everything from diabetes camps to new technology. I can't wait to do it again! It just reinforced for us how amazing and caring this diabetes community is, and having that kind of support available is priceless.

Feeling the good D karma, Noah went off that night to my mom's for "sleepover, take 2". Huge success.

Sunday dawned bright and warm- perfect for the big birthday party. We got down to some fun with friends and family here. I made a ton of food- Jon was the master of the grill (and the master of flinging water balloons) and at the end of the day, our exhausted and excited boy said it was his "best birthday ever"!

1 weekend ago...

It's funny how the most recent of the past 3 weekends is the one that I can barely remember. It was pretty hot and humid, so I plodded through the weekend in a kind of stupor. Noah went blueberry and raspberry picking with my mom on Saturday, and brought back a TON of goodies. That boy can pick some darn good berries, and we've been feasting on these sweet jewels of yummy goodness since.

Sunday, we were off again! My mom, Jon, Noah and I hopped on the train for a trip to the Boston Garden to see Walking With Dinosaurs. We had a great time at this very interesting, educational, sometimes funny and a little scary look at the history and legacy of dinosaurs. We had some time to kill before our departing train, and took a little walking tour of Boston. We were conveniently located right near the New England Aquarium, and who can resist the faces of those cute little harbor seals? Off the four of us went. Being down by the water and breeze made the heat bearable.

Things kind of crumbled after that. To make a long story short, by the time we made it to Quincy Market, we were all hungry, thirsty, tired, had to pee, the temp was 90 with 100% humidity, and there was a thunder storm- forcing us and about 30 other sweaty tourists to cram into a glass vestibule outside the "Cheers" bar and wait it out. That train ride could not come soon enough!

The plan this weekend is to do absolutely nothing.

Talking Type 1

Find more videos like this on Tu Diabetes - A Community for People Touched by Diabetes

During our meeting in Boston with Manny and Andreina from TuDiabetes, Noah gave a little interview on the Swan Boats. He talks about life with Type 1 diabetes.

Discreet But Never Ashamed

Yesterday, I had the perfect opportunity to reinforce some diabetes care etiquette to Noah. Being the first day of spring vacation, and of course it was raining (still is), we went to a really cool place nearby to paint ceramics. We picked out our pieces. Noah chose a sushi plate and I went with a simple bowl. The place was busy and we were lucky to grab a spot, so we sat down and got creative. I knew from the past that during slower times, they don't mind if you bring a snack or light lunch to enjoy while you paint, but seeing how busy it was, I decided to ask if it was ok for Noah to eat his lunch at the table.

I approached one of the ladies working there, and discreetly but with confidence, explained that Noah has type 1 and it would be wonderful if they could help us adhere to our schedule by allowing him to eat at the table.

(Just to clarify, I'm not looking for extra special treatment. I was prepared to leave and come back after lunch time if it was a problem, but it doesn't hurt to ask. "No" is not the end of the world.)

She told us it was no problem, and smiled kindly as she told us, "you eat whatever and whenever you need to" . cool!

So we sat, painted and talked. While Noah waited for his design to dry, he pulled out his lunch bag and test kit. And yes, while the lady and her kids at the table next to us stared open-mouthed, their activity screeched to a halt, he tested his blood glucose.

He's so comfortable testing in public, he sometimes lets it all hang out, bloody fingers and all, and I have to remind him to keep it discreet. I've explained that some people don't care for the sight of blood and needles, so he should think of others feelings. I've also explained to him that even though he should take steps to shield blood from public view, that in no way ever, should he be ashamed of testing in public.

His obliviousness to the stares from the adjacent table shows me that he is confident and that he knows there's no shame in taking care of his Type 1, no matter where or when he needs to test.

Great News!!

Noah was part of a project last year to raise awareness about diabetes called "Word In Your Hand". About a month ago, our friend Manny Hernandez, founder of TuDiabetes.com, asked if Noah's image from that project could be used in an awareness/advertising campaign with LifeScan, makers of OneTouch glucose meters. Today is the very first day of that campaign.

Click to watch the video (Noah is pictured early on, and his hand word is stress) http://onetouchdiabetes.com/sharing.html

This news comes in tandem with the exciting announcement of a partnership between TuDiabetes and OneTouch which is explained in detail here.

I'm super excited about this- not only because Noah is a part of it, but because it will help bring more people with diabetes to a wonderfully helpful, educational and vibrant community.

Raise Your Voice for Type 1 Diabetes

Noah's diagnosis day is a blur. Sure, I can go back through loads of paperwork to find the exact day, but off the top of my head I don't know the exact date of diagnosis. I think it's better that way. It's not a happy occasion, like a birthday or wedding anniversary. It's a day I'd love to bury in the back of my mind. Impossible. It's the day I thought my child would be taken from me. It's the day that a cloud of despair fell dark and heavy over our lives. Yes, most details of that day are fuzzy- but a few stand out clearly in my memory and if I close my eyes, it's like watching it replay on a movie screen...

Spring, 2005

In the morning Noah is crying. He comes into my room and tells me he's wet the bed again. It's the third time this week.

More, water please mom? I'm so thirsty.

Our good friend mentions the word diabetes, after we told him that Noah's been having accidents. I call the doctor the next day and we go in for tests.

The pediatrician calls us early in the morning, telling us to go directly to Boston, and that Noah will be in good hands.

Sitting in the cafeteria, all I could do was stare at Noah's hospital bracelet.

I bought a notebook at the gift shop, and filled it that day. I still have it.

The realization of what we were up against when they tested Noah's blood sugar the first time. He didn't just cry. He flipped out. It was too much for a little kid. It was too much for us. I wanted to scoop him up and run away.

I didn't cry.


That's what I remember most about that time. I was too busy learning and doing what would keep Noah alive and well and healthy.

I remember another day, too. A better day. The day when I realized that we are doing all right by our son. It was in the summer. Mere months after his diagnosis, and I overheard him explaining diabetes to one of his cousins. "I wish I didn't have it, but it's no big deal", he said.

The tears finally came, and with them came a kind of peace - a knowledge that everything would be ok. That diabetes is strong and stubborn, but it is no match for what we can dish out.

Faith and Science

Most of us have heard this recent news story about parents choosing prayer instead of medical treatment. It was a topic of our dinner conversation tonight. I believe in the power of prayer, but as my husband put it, you have to pray and have faith but "meet God halfway". It reminds me of a story I 've heard alot over the years:

A flood came and a man had to climb onto the roof of his house. As the waters rose a neighbor in a rowboat appeared, and told him to get in. "No," replied the man on the roof, "the Lord will save me." Then a firefighter appeared in a speedboat. "Climb in!" shouted the firefighter. "No," replied the man on the roof, "The Lord will save me." A helicopter appeared and the pilot shouted that he would lower a rope to the man on the roof. "No," replied the man on the roof, "the Lord will save me." Eventually the man drowned and went to heaven, where he asked God why He hadn't helped him. "I sent a neighbor, a firefighter, and helicopter," said God. "What more do you want?"

I can't imagine the pain and sorrow these parents must be going through, but if there ever was a time for prayer, it's now.

You know that song...

...Next thing you know

Shawty got low low low low low low low low...

All the kids are listening to that song these days so it's only natural that it's running through my head like a soundtrack since last night when Noah's blood sugars dropped and refused to come up. Between 9 pm and 1 this morning, this is what he went through.

71-juice

74-juice and glucose tabs

51- juice and a packet of smartees

He finally came up to a reasonable number and was able to get some sleep, but it was a weird and unexpected trend and completely out of the blue. He usually flies a bit on the high side after treating a low, so for it not to come up was frustrating. I'm so thankful he is aware of his lows - that is something positive I can at least hang on to, because it's easy to get discouraged in dealing with these unexplainable happenings of this disease.

Revisiting the Past

I was in Target last week in the book section, not looking for anything in particular. I picked up a random book here and there, scanning the back cover quickly and putting it back when my hand hovered over: "Please Stop Laughing at Me..." by Jodee Blanco. The words "...school bullying..." on the cover immediately rang true for me. I sucked in a breath of nervous air and picked it up and opened to somewhere in the middle.

I might as well have been reading from my journal from when I was 12. So much of what Jodee writes about in this book happened to me too. She told of kids cramming fist fulls of snow into her mouth...for me it was playground wood chips. She had cruel notes passed to her during class, as did I. The similarities took me back to a time in my life that I so desperately would love to forget but that I think about way too often. As I read the book over this past weekend, I thought of my sweet son. Only 9, but bullied far too much already.

When Noah was first diagnosed with Type 1 in 2005, he was on injections and flew under the "weirdness radar" so to speak. He went to the nurse for everything, and the kids in his class were none the wiser. He was well liked and had friends in school.

Last year he went on the pump. For us it was a step up to tighter control of blood glucose, and more freedom for Noah. For the kids at school it put Noah in a new category and labeled him weird. They had visual proof that he was not like everyone else. Bullying started. I know kids are afraid of what they don't know, and as a result tend to make fun as a means to cope. They didn't tease him about the pump, or diabetes though. It was as if that one little difference caught their attention, and that's all it took, really. They got on his case about anything and everything. From the sneakers on his feet to telling him "your parents don't even love you". A few kids on the bus threatened him daily. One boy went so far as to tell Noah he was going to shoot him in the head with his bow and arrow.

The stress of it all got to Noah. His grades suffered, and he became an emotional mess but more importantly his blood glucose was all over the place. (It's well known stress can wreak havoc on blood sugars). It broke my heart and my husband was livid. This kid who was so easy going, and never once complained about going through the changes of being a person with Type 1 was showing some major cracks in his armor. It eventually eased up but we had to do some ranting in the process. After realizing this was more than a boys will be boys thing, we worked with the school and they helped in a huge way. I'm grateful for that. When I was a kid being bullied right in front of the recess monitors while they smoked their Parliament 100's and did nothing was the norm. You were labeled a tattletale back then if you made so much as a peep.

I'm glad for the chance to go back and revisit how I felt as a kid in school. One thing Jodee's book made me realize is that I hang on to those insecurities and fears way too much for a 34 year old. What kind of example am I setting? At some point I have to get over it and believe in ME...not other people's view of me. I know that Noah will look to me for cues in how to handle bullying and other struggles in his life, and that I'll have to make good on my own advice.

Flawless

First, to get it out of my system:
New England Patriots 11-0!!!!!

Thanksgiving blood sugars for Noah were unbelievable. I mean, spot on perfection even with all the rich food, and pie and constant grazing throughout the day. There was almost no effort involved (a couple things we even guesstimated on the carbs) and never did they go above 150. I couldn't believe it!!!

I wish every day with diabetes for Noah could be as effortless as that day- last night a 327 came along and bit us all in the ass. We were all taken by surprise by that one. I sometimes wonder if his BG meter just spits out random high numbers, so I will have him re-test and use more strips and have to buy more, making the strip companies that much richer...

Conspiracy theories aside, save for that weird high, it was a great long weekend full of family and friends. As we recapped the events,my husband and I were saying how carefree the d- management was this year, and it dawned on us that it's Noah's first Thanksgiving on the pump. It seems like he's been on it forever, but it's been just under a year.

It's a bit of a sad feeling of acceptance. That thing that was so foreign and scary to us not so long ago has become a (sometimes)seamless and integral part of daily life for all of us. Is has become so routine.
Just like they told us at the hospital - like brushing your teeth, it will become automatic, and they were so right.

This is our life, far from flawless, but I believe it's the way we are meant to live it.