Tag Archives: cow milk

13Jun / 2012

Hang of

Getting hang of temp basal by act out in mind what could do.

However much I want to vilify milk…oh, shit. Just drink it.

Bed: 80. Could decrease basal 50% for few hours? Could do. Think about. Almost ready learn this important skill. Animas manual folded open that section. Instead wake boy up, make drink few glugs milk. (Milk of cow! Too late now—cow give Bubs more diabetes? Analogous dying friend/cancer decide on whim visit tanning bed at artificial eyelash-eyebrow salon.) Next time try decrease basal.

Imagine each one turning back into a dollar bill—you’d be so glad you didn’t vacuum.

Getting hang of used strip management: ignore.

Jack notice lately often find used strip on floor What should I do when I see one? Should I hand it to you? <—Jack think used strip = valuable. Aww! Answer: Just leave it there. We’ll eventually vacuum it up. If not learn ignore strip scatter, never do anything but pick up strip.

Getting hang of WAG-ing

Tonight 3rd grade graduation, hopeful-eyed Bubs approach w/ plate of sailboat-theme dessert: sailboat cookie, wedge sailboat-shape doughnut cake, semaphore flag-topped cupcake. Ask Spouse whaddaya say, 120? Spouse: sounds good. Nearby is Dream Babysitter’s mom. What do you think for this plate? 120? DBM take inventory. Point to cupcake. Bigfoot say that’s 40, right? 

DBM: Yeah, I was going to say 40. And the doughnut cake is kind of small, but Allie’s frosting is really sugary. And that cookie’s pretty big. Yeah, I’d guess 40 for each of them

BFOOT + BFOOT SPOUSE: Woohoooo!

Getting hang of see child flat out on ground not mean coma.

Main problem this posture is lyme disease tick.

 Back into the arena: Katniss!

It’s part of the game. They fling each other to the ground, then stay down for a while. The game is called HUNGER GAMES. I’m not sure what the staying down indicates.

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19Mar / 2012

Overhear back of car

Boys in back of car after Nerf Tag, complain one girl hog bullets/scream when other children try use.

BUBS: Do you think she has, you know…you know…I don’t know, special needs? (Say with tone most reserve for “anal fissures” or “truncated colon”)

JACK: I don’t know. Her parents won’t let her get any vaccines so maybe she’s autistic

BUBS: What?

BFOOT: Some people think vaccines have something in them that exacerbates their children’s autism

JACK: But I heard there’s no science to prove that

BFOOT: Well, parents like to figure out the reason why something has gone wrong with their children. Like how I think Bubs maybe got diabetes because he drank so much cow milk. Even though there’s not really science to prove it, I kind of think it might be true. People don’t like things to just be plain bad luck

BUBS: But it’s not like there’s something wrong with me

JACK: You have diabetes

BUBS: Yeah, but it’s not like it affects my social skills

(The end.)

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02Mar / 2012

Seizure-y

What lengths will you go to for an extra one of these?

Bubs’s Lantus dose 9u now. 7u before. Coro Center nurse advise test 2AM one or two times, make sure not go too low in night. Tell Bigfoot not need worry, Bubs “is just a normal, growing boy with diabetes.”

As imagine, Bigfoot not 100% keen on 2AM finger prick. Therefore agree camp out by fire, try make mild homestyle adventure. Bubs in sleeping bag, Bigfoot on sofa. Two new New Yorker magazine arrive while Bigfoot in Bahamas, eager read article with Darwin/altruism/vampire bat regurgitate blood into mouth of starving fellow vampire bat.

Settle in by fire. Bigfoot have magazine open, sheepskin spread over sofa, big duvet all to self. Alarm set 2AM. Bubs in sleeping bag, rosy cheeks, hair damp from shower.

BUBS: I feel like I can’t fall asleep

BFOOT: Maybe you’re too hot

BUBS: Yeah

BFOOT: Let’s skooch you away from the fire

BUBS: OK (sets sleeping bag and pillow up a few feet further away from the fire)

BFOOT: (goes back to reading vampire bat article)

BUBS: Or maybe I can’t fall asleep because I just feel so low

BFOOT: You do? (Hops up to get finger pricker. Bubs handles the pricker and runs the test)

BUBS: 39

BFOOT: Thirty-nine? Really? (Runs into kitchen to get candy corn)

BUBS: I’m sorry

BFOOT: It’s not your fault! Are you eating those?

BUBS: It is my fault. I should have told you sooner

BFOOT: Did you eat all seven?

BUBS: Yeah

BFOOT: Did you feel low and not say something?

BUBS: No

BFOOT: It’s not your fault! Honey, you know it’s not your fault at all

BUBS: My legs feel weird. They feel all…seizure-y

BFOOT: They do? (Starts rubbing his legs)

BUBS: Yeah, it’s like I can control them and make them stay still but it’s really really hard to

Sam Fuld is not Sam Talbot

Now at 99. Bigfoot pause. Think. What different? Switch cow milk for sugarfree coconut milk, unsweet almond milk. Also Girl Scout cookies arrive. Also, swim YMCA minnow no guppy (rigorous.) But what if LANTUS whopper dose the problem—low come back again, again, again? Really need hypoglycemia awareness dog. Ask spouse check again: 137.

Sam Talbot eats sauteed broccoli rabe for a snack

Meanwhile, for happy thing, Sam Talbot cookbook arrive. Bigfoot recommend. Sam Talbot so handsome, so healthy, Type 1 since age 12, professional chef, surfer, book of recipe also have practical advice for how carry syringe in pocket, how organize supplies in home, how bring all need in waterproof box for surf. Still huge hassle but gorgeous book make feel better this topic. Wee bit. Bigfoot family decide make pilgrimage Montauk, find Sam Talbot restaurant. Book feature photo Sam Talbot test blood sugar–same blue meter as Bubs, but Sam Talbot meter all scratched up (sandy lifestyle).

Lemon ricotta pancake. Sam Talbot say eat only one time in year because splurge. Sam Talbot limit carbs under 90/day (20-30/meal.) Bigfoot so far away this goal.

One Samoa cookie: 10g carbs. Seems like should be more.

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28Sep / 2011

Someone owe someone else $82.70

and after the hospital, Target for Lego sets. And after Target, CVS for drugs.

Blue Cross Blue Shield Rhode Island call Bigfoot today. Say need apologize. Tell Bigfoot overpay on deductible, maybe pay Providence Pediatrics $82.70 twice. Very complicated book keeping information relayed by telephone, Bigfoot not able to process—while on phone, Bubs looking up with eager eyes, miming play PSP game—also Bigfoot slicing apple, also kind of uninterested this topic.

Try to end conversation. Say, “Wow, well, thanks for telling me. I guess if I owe anyone money they’ll bill me.” Representative correct Bigfoot. It that maybe Bigfoot family pay twice. Representative notice much activity on account around August 9th, can Bigfoot remember why go pediatrician after hours that day?

Pffffft. $82.70 nothing! How BCBSRI afford spend time track down information this amount when hospital bill probably a 5 digit-er. Bigfoot never become CFO. American Express bill show August 9th charges Boston Museum of Science, then later Rhode Island Hospital Au Bon Pain. Bigfoot remember everything. Go Science Museum, get diabetes. Pediatrician, ER, Hasbro hospital Au Bon Pain. Red velvet cupcake for Bubs, then vegetable soup for Bigfoot, then another vegetable soup for Bigfoot. Bigfoot even remember scratchy area on soup spoon, small cut on tongue.

Bubs feel a low in school this morning. Bigfoot happy Bubs notice. He tell teacher “I feel shaky.” Teacher call nurse. Nurse enter classroom. Number 60. Nurse telephone Bigfoot when it over. Later Bigfoot remember idiot move: Bubs pour entire glass of milk on oatmeal today. Swamp it. After eat oats, milk remain in bowl. Bigfoot subtract carbs for left-behind milk but not sharp enough think: there’s maple syrup in that milk, you’d better subtract for that too.

Every parent child with diabetes wish could have diabetes in place of child. This especially so Bigfoot case not just because Bigfoot so so kind but also because Bigfoot total food control freak, probably excellent diabetes patient. Also look at swish belt hold insulin pump. Bigfoot like one in center photo, large polka dot. Maybe get for iPod.  Now look how sad same product for boy. There no way make accessory for boy look good. It impossible. (Sorry fan of Pixar Cars.) Bubs not have pump yet anyway. Hope not have to resort fanny pack.

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19Sep / 2011

386 <—abominable

A keytone---not actual size.

386. This a very high blood sugar, and it Bubs’s before dinner today. This following URI Political Science 50th Anniversary Party.

Ask Bubs to pee on a strip—he look so worried. “Am I going to have ketones?” Tell him well, we’ll see. Bigfoot spouse and Bigfoot follow Bubs to toilet. Hover-hover-hover. Count fifteen seconds, see ketone portion of strip not change from color of 1970s stewardess Avon foundation makeup. Blood sugar portion of strip change color like gangbusters, but doctor administering Chuckydoll study say ignore that bit.

This mean blood sugar meter not working—wait, or—possible have blood sugar this high with no ketones? Not even Trace Ketones or Small Ketones. Something wrong.

Also, why blood sugar high after URI party? Give plenty insulin cover University Dining Services BBQ chicken, Diet Dr. Pepper, 2″ square bakery sheetcake and 3″ x 2″ brownie. Bigfoot consult multiple entries on MyFitnessPal, obtain data feel confident, do injection. Maybe problem is Bigfoot and Bigfoot spouse not clear on size of imperial inch. Maybe Bubs getting flu.

Coincidentally as Bigfoot first consider this possibility, Jack ask, “What’s that disease, it sounds like Illinois?” Bigfoot know what he mean immediately, “Pneumonia?” But Bigfoot not psychic—it proven fact. Last week in Shaw’s have strong urge buy loathed Rhode Island Lottery Scratch Ticket. Theme baseball. Feel very drawn to this, even though hate whole scratch ticket scene. Decide follow intuition. Bigfoot team score FIVE. Opponent score SIX.

Bigfoot never enjoy University parties, only attend because father-in-law very popular professor retiring, many people make speech about he so awesome. These parties full of 1960′s era women who think it a shame Bigfoot not have big career in traditionally masculine field. During party recap/recovery time Bigfoot spouse ask, Who in particular do you mean? What did they say to make you think this? Bigfoot think only of one woman, not even in Political Science department, incident circa 2005, Bigfoot never recover, maybe overgeneralize about this demographic. Basis maybe not sound, but feeling still true.

Butter resting in shrub with alter ego, Trace, the crackerjack hypoglycemic awareness dog.

Bubs and Bigfoot begin research hypoglycemic awareness dogs. Seem exclusive South Dakota, Colorado, Northern California, and Virginia. This interesting to know. Why South Dakota so advanced? Probably because drink so much factory farm cow milk.

Also learn there no license for service dog accompany person into library, cafe, etc. Tempted pretend Butter a diabetes dog, get him little vest, take him places. Too bad he have history bite mailman. Maybe he go by pseudonym in public No, this isn’t Butter, this is Trace Ketones, our diabetes dog. Please don’t pat him. He’s working.

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15Sep / 2011

Bigfoot make large error. No photo available.

Last night Bigfoot forget to give Bubs basal insulin. This a new kind of error, feel new bad territory of not know what to do.

In morning today Jack between chomps of breakfast, say “Hey, did you even give Briggs a shot of Lantus last night?” Bigfoot and Bubs’s eyes meet, both mouth make small O shape. Bubs rather calmly ask, “Am I going to die now?”

Bigfoot call doctor on pager. Write to diabetes mother friend who may be faster reply than doctor.

Doctor call back, say not do anything, probably Bubs have some high blood sugar today and tomorrow, it probably be OK, maybe need check urine for ketones. Call if ketones, she tell Bigfoot what dose fast-acting insulin give to bring blood sugar down. Friend write back, say this happen to her once, it OK. Bigfoot call school nurse to tell about mistake. She prepared, make sure have ketone test strip, ready for action.

School nurse call at noon, Bubs have low. “He’s fine now, I just thought you would want to know he’s not high!” This so strange. Maybe lucky Bigfoot forget shot? Who know. This a stupid disease, reward parent for error. Nice blood sugar rest of day, 117, 118, etc.

Also rest of day, Bigfoot feel shitty, try to find other error, preferably error made by other person. It never take Bigfoot long to spot this kind of error: e.g. Bigfoot spouse think household standard drinking glass hold 8 ounces of milk but it hold six! Also, he not know one cup=8 fluid ounces. Not know pint=2 cups. Not know quart=4 cups. After that, Bigfoot give in—it enough.

Now not sleep, read about Ron Paul. He an OB/GYN! Watch Jon Stewart. Refresh facebook. Search Garnet Hill and Company Store for a la carte dog-themed flannel sheets, twin size fitted + twin duvet cover + standard sham.

It Open House for third grade this evening. Bigfoot arrive 45 minutes late to the 60-minute program. It imagination or other parent give look as if to say there is poor Bigfoot. She late because she struggle with ill child, maybe she drunk or need to cry in car. Look, she signing up to be math lab volunteer, probably not show up. They not know Bigfoot late because linger over book about casserole in public library, disgusting photo of shrimp embedded in rice on cover.

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03Sep / 2011

Bile up to Bigfoot eyeball

Some hurricane thing very good: postpone school days, gain time for plan snack/lunch carb, also not need wake up early. Bad part: no fairy godmother rescue Bigfoot family from diabetes.

When arrive at preppy prison, it seem like heaven. Jack read Kardashian wedding People magazine, Paine’s Creek beach at high tide, no cook or clean, big puffy bed with own cable television. Then notice: no one make diabetes go away. Then notice: no one understand diabetes—think no need insulin if drink milk with sticky bun. Think it nice take Bubs aside, call him “a real champion.” Also notice, maybe some wrinkle nose when see syringe. Bigfoot not go again until cure found or syringe parlor installed.

One day lunch Bubs ask drive Hyannis, get Pizzeria UNO brand macaroni and cheese. (Bigfoot say OK because this near Trader Joe’s, think maybe Trader Joe’s have diabetes section Bigfoot overlook on previous visit.) Bubs order desired meal, get insulin shot (many unit to cover high carb count) then refuse to eat. Sure Bigfoot look cool as cucumber, but panic—hustle children next door to Wendy’s for Frosty to make up for missing carbs. Bigfoot have fantasy say PIZZERIA HOLY FUCKING UNO, throw glass of ice against plasma screen tv, shock children into blind obedience. Not worth try—pretty sure it not work. Limp along with current pacifist/scientist/holywoman method.

It a miracle, blood glucose remain normal after macaroni/Frosty swap. Bigfoot afraid Bubs manipulate this way all of time now, think maybe need to do tackle/force frosting into cheek pouch next time to avoid set bad pattern. Bigfoot try to avoid think what happen if Bubs discover power refuse eat have over school day.

Anyhoo, Bigfoot and sons cry in car whole drive home. Everything too overwhelming, especially if have mother who is crybaby.

Bigfoot home now. Nothing improve. Hurricane lawn debris: terrible. Household maintenance: terrible. Food selection: terrible. Unwanted Eames (faux) chair: unsold. Wish to blame Bigfoot spouse, but he out at job “all day.” (Teacher.) (Bigfoot kidding!)

Swim with friends at YMCA, eat peanut butter graham cracker for energy, have enough energy for pencil dive and cannonball; think healthy blood sugar #110. Bigfoot wish could run away for week, but not trust anyone take care of Bubs. This a terrible love trap, hate every moment.

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21Aug / 2011

Too Myopic for Bigfoot

When I see coverage of the famine in Somalia, I just think: whoa, better not go there with Briggs. I picture being in the Cormac McCarthy The Road and how many syringes I’d need to carry, and then that it wouldn’t matter if I filled my entire survival wagon with medicine and needles, it wouldn’t be enough, and anyway people would steal the syringes to make me into a better-tasting ham.

Briggs is still doing fine, if you overlook the dinnertime “No thanks, I’m hungry but I think I’ll just lie here until I die” thing on the living room rug. (He ate farfalle and Nate’s vegan meatballs and broccoli, and lived.) Everyone except target-audience Briggs guzzled a green smoothie which was so sweet with pineapple juice and bananas any kale benefit was surely cancelled out but he did eat the broccoli without comment, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Insurance papers are staring to come in the mail, retelling the story of the past week point five. They seem to indicate that we owe no one money, but they make it seem possible that none of this is covered. Everything says THIS IS NOT A BILL. Nothing says DON’T WORRY YOU DO NOT OWE ANYONE MONEY. A smart insurance company would stamp those words in corporate red-magenta ink whenever applicable.

More luck: a woman in town befriended me for a mysterious reason about maybe a year ago, acting on a feeling that we have something in common. It turns out her daughter is one year older than Briggs and diabetic. We got together yesterday. She is wonderful–the kind of person who says humans probably shouldn’t drink the milk of other mammals except for in coffee.

She pulled prize after prize out of a shopping bag: a travel-sized sharps container (actually a box of EIGHT travel-sized sharps containers. “I don’t need these!” she said, then demonstrated the sharps-clipper that allows her to separate the needle bits from the bulky plastic bits of syringes); CVS-brand cherry glucose gel to revive a passed-out child (“It came in a three-pack! It tastes gross”); a spare finger pricker set (“Every time you go to a doctor, they give you another one of these. You might as well keep an extra one in your car”). And more riches.

She said she now thinks Type 1 diabetes is the reason she was mysteriously drawn to me. At the end of our meeting I found out her husband is a dog whisperer. Maybe this miracle person will teach me to be a diabetes mother (“we are their pancreas–we inject insulin”) and the husband will work some woo-woo on Butter.

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Bigfoot say other thing

Bigfoot sure this not right placement Pinterest button

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