So I took this picture a week or so ago and was going to upload it to the Word in Your Hand project at Tu Diabetes, but then I thought I had lost it while re-sizing it and I never did it. I found it today, so I'll put it up here. This was a word that we picked for O and it certainly applies, but if I was going to pick a word that sums up my feelings about diabetes, it would be "relentless." Diabetes is a constant in our lives, but there is really nothing constant about it except for the relentlessness.
Today has been a truly lovely day. O and I met with some friends this morning about a possible business venture. Despite the wriggling two-year-old on my lap and the table full of Play-Doh, I felt like a grown-up for a bit and I am really excited about some new possibilities that are appearing on the horizon.
My mom is back in town after a vacation and we had a nice lunch together and filled her in on what she had missed at Halloween.
O and I ran errands with the sunroof open and windows down, listening to Ryan Adams and making bear dance. O sang and made jokes and just generally cracked me up.
Sounds perfect, right? Except...
Inexplicably, she was stuck at 360 all day. I stuck her at breakfast, again at the coffee shop, during lunch with my mom, before naptime. I have given her a ton of insulin today out of brand-new bottles and I haven't been able to budge her. It is crazy-making.
You couldn't tell it for looking at her; she seems to feel fine, but it's there. It's always there and I hate that I can never, EVER, look at her and just see my child. I am always trying to see what it is doing to her. Do her eyes look red? Is the insulin finally working? Too much? Is she rubbing her stomach because it hurts? It's always lurking around somewhere, a constant.
But what can we do but go on with our perfect day? She has let me poke her finger again and again; she's fought me just a little on the shots. And I have tried, when I looked at her, to just see the "brave," instead of the "360."