We had a few very nice weeks with good numbers. I don't like to talk about good numbers while they are happening because I'm afraid I'll jinx it. Superstitious? Yup! Brenna's numbers were still good but on the high end of her spectrum on Thursday when we did her site change. She was a little higher than normal two hours after her site change but it is not unusual for her to go a tad high. Still higher than I like at 3 a.m. 277. The next morning she woke up at 205. I checked her blood ketones - nada.
Then we had pancakes.
Why did I make pancakes when Brenna had been a little higher than normal? Because I was home and could actually spend the time making pancakes. I usually make a huge batch and freeze the leftovers for instant snacks later in the week. Cheaper than Eggo! If I have wheat flour it's usually healthier too. But, no matter what we do she goes really high with pancakes. 414. Made REALLY sure she had no sugar free syrup on her fingers and tested her again. 380. Not a single number under 200 all day long so I kept an eye on her and checked her site but it looked good. After dinner I noticed that special "insulin" smell when I was blowing raspberries on her tummy so we did another site change -- she was really mad about that. Brenna fought harder than she's fought in awhile. I try to keep diabetes routines low key: I give her a hug, comment about her behavior, ("Wow, you sat so still. Thank you!" or "You must be frustrated with getting poked today, you wiggled a lot.") and move on to the next thing (play dough, coloring, dress-up, playing, lunch, whatever). After dinner is our nighttime routine and thus not something very exciting to her so I popped in a Greg & Steve CD and we all danced for about half an hour.
Recap: the day was highish, way high, nearly high, insulin smell, site change, dancing, bed.
What's this a recipe for? You guessed it! That night time low. Al even gave her ice cream for snack that night. She went to sleep so easily. Al and I hung out watching the TV. I started nodding off and on my way to bed asked him to test Brenna before he headed that way. I was out when my head hit the pillow. All of a sudden, Al's shaking my shoulder saying "wake up, I need your help she's 89, she's 89." I grab a tube of frosting and Al gets some milk. We meet back at Brenda’s bed and start squeezing the tube into her mouth. I realize at this point that it's red frosting and somewhere my mind pops up with "I hope this doesn't get all over the sheets" and "awwww, I should take a picture. With the red all over her mouth she makes a very sweet vampire". Don't ask me where it comes from. She's shaking her head trying to get me to stop and yet she's still asleep. We dribble some milk into her mouth, wait 15 minutes, and she's 88. Lovely. At least she's not dropping too fast. We succeed in waking her enough to finish half of her milk and squirt some more frosting into her mouth against her wishes. (Isn't that bizarre? I have to force my frosting girl to eat frosting). Finally another 20 minutes pass and she's at 111. I tuck her in and flop back into bed. In the morning 213. Sigh. A new day to attempt to get that number below 200 and keep it there.
I still haven't gotten the hang of balancing exercise and insulin and food. Some days she runs like crazy all day long and it doesn't seem to affect her numbers. Some days she goes low. I can't recall a time when she has gone high after exercise. But. . . hours or days later exercise is supposed to affect her BG readings. I don't know how to calculate for that. I suck at math on regular days. Well, not suck really, but I work really hard and take a long time to get to the right answers. If somebody told me that my child would be diagnosed with a disease that required me to be able to perform daily math calculations and administer shots I would have told them that they were being incredibly cruel to even suggest such a combo considering my aversion to mathematics and my needle phobia. I did have a teacher tell me I was going to get diabetes and that I'd have to get over my fear of needles. I think her daughter had diabetes and she was ticked that I had the luxury to have such a phobia. I WISH I had gotten diabetes instead of Brenna! If I could go back in time my 12-year-old self would never understand that kind of wish and she'd be hurt that I can sympathize with that teacher. Strange what curveballs life throws at us isn't it?