Today is the first day of school, and our family’s first first day with two d-people in the same school. High school.
Earlier this week, I showed Tab the bin of supplies I’d be delivering to the nurse’s office: low treatments, Cleos, glucagon. He was confused.
TAB: But why?
BIGFOOT: In case you need something while you’re at school.
TAB: Shouldn’t we just carry what we need in our bags? I don’t get it.
BF: Well, like if your pump stopped working, and you needed insulin, it would be in the nurse’s fridge. Or if you were low and you’d run out of Starbursts. Or if you need a new site and didn’t have one in your bag.
TAB: (Skeptically) Okaaaaay.
My impression, from Bubs, is that D-people are continuously in and out of the nurse’s office, having chilled juice boxes on the fainting couch and retrieving assorted materials. Tab doesn’t know about this, because he has always been barely diabetic: Lantus at night, Humalog for food, blood glucose stays normal. Carries sugar for emergencies, never has emergency. Like a boy in a picture book about diabetes.
Occasionally, now, things heat up.
Tab and I were out running this week and after two miles his Dexcom said 40-sthg, arrow down. He ate all seven of the Starbursts he’d packed and then, I think I’m okay. But I feel like my whole face is a scab, do you know what I mean? Like if I touch it, especially if I touched the corners of my mouth, all of the skin would fall off and the muscles would show. But I feel fine. Except for I feel like my whole face is a scab, you know what I mean? I really think it’s fine. Do you feel like your face is a scab right now? Especially at the corners of your mouth? The back of his neck was covered in droplets of sweat like a comic book illustration of a sweaty person’s neck. Beads and beads of sweat, then rivulets. Wow, my neck is sweaty but I think I’m fine. Does your face ever feel like a…scab?
I think it was his first real hypo. I remembered similar conversations with Bubs years ago, where something unusual would become the focus while the person insisted everything was fine. For example, maybe the person thinks everyone in the vicinity feels their face is a scab, which explains the weird feeling that has overcome them. Sudden onset scab-face universe, instead of low BG.
II. Not Giving Away My Shot
Tab has been using Bubs’s old Animas Ping for a few weeks. He really prefers pumping to MDI, but wants to wait for something significantly next-level before using up his once-in-four-years-shot at selecting a new piece of insulin delivery technology. We are almost out of Ping cartridges though, so I emailed the endo office to request an Rx for Ping cartridges. This might seem sketchy to them, since Tab doesn’t even have an Rx for a pump, and since we haven’t discussed with our care team if they would recommend a pump. Fingers crossed.
III. In It for the Pens
Tab and I went to Joslin earlier in August for our regular TrialNet visit. He had two days of tests, OGTT and MMTT. I had just one MMTT. He likes Boost. Whatever. He was high for both. I don’t remember asking if I was high after mine, but I did have a yucky reactive hypo (50’s, couldn’t keep walking, numb face, thought fruit leather was the most delicious thing in the world, etc.) while we were headed to Coolidge Corner for lunch. This can not be good for the health of either of us, and I would probably quit TrialNet, but there is now a Muji store in Boston, and I love pens and notebooks. Also, Tab would like to continue and I have to drive him, so I might as well be science.