I’ve always felt as if there’s some sort of invisible radar signal that I send out to my son that wakes him up when I’m low. Maybe he has a sixth sense about it, I don’t know. Or, maybe he just was scared crap-less by my Dexcom whaling after midnight last night that woke him up and not me, though it was three inches from my ear, and he was in another room. Either way, I was low, and I didn’t wake up.
Not until I heard his screaming from his room. Not his usual whimpery cry that’s basically his way of saying “maaamaaaaaaa, I don’t want to sleep by myselfffff….”, but a full-on tear fest by the time I got him. It wasn’t until I picked him up and took him to our room and I fell and dropped him (the bed was right there, so at least I dropped him in the bed) that I knew something REALLY wasn’t right. I got back up and placed a pillow beside him and went to the kitchen to test.
Yep. It was then that I could not feel my mouth at all – not just tingly, numb lips, my entire face from my nose down may as well have been shot up with Novocaine. It was hard to chew the glucose tabs. It wasn’t until my BG started to come up that I realized we had juice in the fridge as well as Erik’s regular soda sitting right beside the fridge.
When I went back to bed, I looked at my Dexcom, still hanging on the hook above my pillow, to see what had happened. I dropped from around 160/180 range to LOW within an hour.
I never heard the alerts. (I emphasize this because it’s something that I can’t make my mind grasp.)
I don’t know how it happens, but this has happened more than once where it’s my son to wake me up from a low and not the Dexcom. I think he’s got some sort of sixth sense about it. I’ve heard the same types of stories from other moms who have diabetes. Maybe there’s a bond there that no one else can have with us. It’s sad, but it’s pretty cool too. Either way, I’m just thankful for it.
When he sweats… his hair curls into an adorable mess:
Because my brain is mush right now, I’m going to just share a few pictures. 🙂 Enjoy!
It helps to write the date you opened your insulin on the vial. Mr. Skunky is not nice to find when you can’t remember how old it is.
Tandem read my post. I’m glad they’re taking my concern to heart. 🙂
I’m eagerly awaiting t:connect’s availability, which has been promised to us by the “end” of March…
My kid. I love him. Happy #bluefridays !
I have been worried for so long that E hasn’t been talking. He’s hung on tightly to his three choice words – Mamaa!, Dad, and mo’ (more). And I’ve been trying to work with him, pointing to objects, saying the name of the object, and if it’s an animal, I’ll mimic the sound that animal makes all in efforts to get him to talk.
Lately, his big word is CAT! We have our two cats, Lucky and Sophie, and he absolutely loves them. Lucky loves E, but Sophie just runs and hides. I mean, come on, Lucky even let’s E pull his tail, “pet” (lightly hit) his head, and whatever else E want’s to do to him. And for a while, we were stuck only on the word CAT! (I say that with emphasis of capital letters to let you imagine that they’re not just cats… they’re CAT!s….) This video is his subtle way of saying it… most of the time we’re greeted with a very excited toddler who is practically yelling CAT at us so that we’ll let them out of their room that they stay in at night.
As of last night, we have a new word. Schoosh (shoes). And he caught on very fast. So, he would sit on his little kiddie couch and, with his pj’s on, try to put on his schoosh with a determined effort, only to hand it to me and stick his foot up at me to put it on. Yes… at 10pm last night, we had a toddler all ready for bed, with schoosh on for him to walk into dreamland.
This morning, I attempted to do the same as always and name the parts of his outfit as I was dressing him. Except when it came time to put on his hat…. and I said “Hat… can you say hat? Hhhaaaatt…”, he just gave me this puzzled look and with excitement said,
Lately, it seems no matter what we do, E stays sick. If it’s a fever with teething, it’s a full-on snot-fest. Now, with the added seasonal asthma speculation, it’s just another thing to add to think about. This week, he’s been coughing, sniffing, sneezing, all the icky green sickie you can be but without a fever. And I JUST had him at the pediatrician not even a week and half ago.
Erik and I both work. We have to so that we can make ends meet and still have a little wiggle room for whatever may come. But lately I’ve been contemplating to see if even trying to re-budget things would work and if me keeping him at home would be better. Part of me wants to think that it’s not going to make it better… that it’s just seasonal and his body has to learn to cope with sickness around him and that I can’t keep him in a bubble. The other part of me thinks it would benefit him so much more. I’ve contemplated working just part-time to help pay for what little I can and then keeping him the rest of the day so that he’s not exposed to germs as long, but then again, he’ll still be exposed to them…so he’ll probably end up sick anyway.
I just don’t know what do to. Tough it out, make a little change or make a huge change. It’s something I’m thinking and praying about. I’m hoping I’ll get the answer I need.