Pretty in Pink

I can't believe I have an 8 year old. Happy Birthday, Maeve Amelia!

Charlie finds a reprieve amongst all things pink

Good Dog

While we change Charlie's site at 1 am because he's stranded for hours at 300, I think about this diabetes life. I think about Maeve, sleeping in the next room.

What's it like growing up in this house of horrors, where every so often she's awakened by sounds of torture. Her little brother thrashing around, crying and begging for it to stop. She often sleeps right through it, but perhaps it seeps into her subconscious, marring her dreams of unicorns and royal weddings.

"Break! Break!" Charlie cries.

Charlie usually pleads that we take a break from the site change process. He makes this request before we even begin.

We tell him he's not alone. We tell him about all of you. We tell him there's another little boy out there somewhere going through the same thing this very minute. Tears slowly spill from his deep brown eyes.

"I wish I can take this from you," I tell him.

Generally, Charlie is like a happy puppy. All he wants to do is play all day. His tail is always wagging. And yes, he sometimes pees on the floor. But, he's not a happy pup when it is site change day.

He's 5 now. Not so young. I think about how Charlie doesn't talk so much about diabetes. He tends to change the subject quickly when we try to talk to him about it. He's happy to show people his pump or invite people to watch him get his blood sugar tested, but he doesn't express his hatred of the disease. We've even told him that it's OK if he wants to say he hates it sometimes.

But, he chooses not to.

For a while I thought he just couldn't really express himself. But he has no trouble expressing his hatred of broccoli. I figured he's just young and not really interested in serious conversation. I do feel that is mostly the case, but maybe there's more than I think going on in that head of his. Maybe he does see diabetes as part of who he is. Maybe he knows exactly what he's doing when he's reluctant to dis his disease.

Good dog.

There Was a Young Lad From PA

There's a great contest over at DIABETEStalkfest for funniest diabetes poem. I was very productive at work today.

There was a young lad from PA
Whose urine could fill a small bay
His mum feared the worst
When his insatiable thirst
Had him slurping from the bidet

When the doctors said he was Type 1
We all grew uncomfortably numb
We took the syringe
And together we cringed
As we plunged it right into his bum

His blood sugars have never been great
And we worry about Charlie's fate
But we don't need a cure
You see, my neighbor is sure
He'll outgrow the disease by age 8

My son wears a pump – Minimed
All these gadgets befuddle my head
I thought he was getting
A new basal setting
But I opened the garage door instead

But I tell you, this pump is premier
Its convenience I hold very dear
I just need to run
A cord through my son
And my TV comes in crystal-clear

I envision a day without shots
A diet of Skittles and Dots
And if he is high
There'll be no need to cry
It's just that he's smoking pot

There is a young lad from PA
Who hopes he'll be cured someday
He faces his plight
Like a brave Jedi Knight
And nothing will stand in his way