Another Line of Hope for a Cure for Type 1 Diabetes

Researches have found that 2 common Leukemia drugs can cure type 1 diabetes in mice. Todd called a few minutes ago to tell me he had just heard that on NPR. I fell over myself trying to get to the computer to look it up. I found this article:

http://www.reuters.com/article/healthNews/idUSTRE4AG78H20081117

I read it, then cried. This is the third line of hope in the cure for type 1 diabetes that I am clinging to.

Given how bad Allie's A1c's have been in the past year, how sick she's been lately and how bad her vision has been, these little strings of hope are all I have to cling to. They force me to stay on my feet, to keep pushing forward, to keep climbing back up from the depression that hovers at my shoulder every time I see Allie drawing up a syringe of insulin to keep herself alive.

Thank you to all the researchers who continue to search for a cure. I love you all.

Another Bad A1C

Last week Allie had another quarterly exam. Her A1c had gone BACK UP to 9.5.

Sigh.

It's the snacking! She knows it. She doesn't want to shoot one or two units of insulin here and there between meals while she grazes. This is so incredibly unhealthy. I can't get her to stop that habit.

Plus, because she only shoots in her stomach, she's getting insulin lumps which are not absorbing, adding to the high blood sugar numbers.

She shocked me during the appointment when she asked the doctor to switch her from her current routine (Lantus and Novolog) to NPH. I nearly cried. This is going to be so much more stringent; she'll HAVE to wake up at a certain time and EAT at the same times every day. She'll HAVE to snack...and the snacks (along with her meals) will HAVE to contain a set amount of carbs.

STRESS. I AM SO STRESSED.

But something HAS to change. She's almost 15; I can't follow her around all day long nagging her to check her sugar. I don't always catch her when she's sneaking snacks. If she believes this change will help her, then I have to allow her the chance to try.

Even though I'm scared.

But I was scared already.

I've been scared since October 18, 2006.

TEENAGERS!!!

Prepare for a whine session!

Having a teen girl is HARD! Having a teen girl with type 1 diabetes downright sucks sometimes. Sorry, Al, but it does.

Allie tore one of her contacts this morning trying to get it in (she just got them Saturday) and she was frustrated and upset. She had a headache and didn't want to go to school. I sent her anyway, as she has already missed too many days this year.

So she and her brother leave for the bus, I get my 2 year old settled in with 'toons and toys, and I plant myself at my desk, determined to get started on the HUGE pile of work that's been waiting for me since last week which is due on Friday.

A quick dash into the kitchen for water and I notice Allie's diabetes kit lying on the kitchen counter. Huh. Maybe that's just her spare. I pick it up for further inspection. Therein are her needles, insulin bottle, and test strips.

She is at school with no meter, no insulin, nothing.

Sigh. Guess I'll be making a trip over to the school in a little while.

I feel guilty for being annoyed that the diabetes is inconveniencing me, since it does more than inconvenience Allie every minute of her life.

The cure is coming soon. It has to.

Bawling My Eyes Out

Just read this post after visiting the website, Six Until Me, and wondering, "What does 'six until me' mean?"

http://sixuntilme.com/about/2007/09/what_does_six_until_me_mean.html

It made me cry. Go see.

But EMT's Are Even Better!

Is it really morning and did we really make it through the night? Was it all just a nightmare? Nope, I have the pictures to prove it. (And just so you know, I took the pix to lighten the mood. Allie was in the very capable hands of the emergency workers and she joked that at least she'd have something to blog about, so of course, I grabbed the camera).

Allie comes out from her room about 10 o'clock last night and is totally freaked out. She tells me she thinks she just accidentally took 30 units of Novolog instead of 30 units of Lantus (Lantus is a slow-acting insulin that lasts for 24 hours and Novolog is a fast-acting insulin taken with meals). My mind froze in time when she said that, just for a second or two. Then it quickly contemplated the enormity of that statement. 30 units of fast-acting insulin. Oops. Major oops. This was bound to be a repeat of L's extreme low I had just been part of Saturday morning (see post below). Or worse. Much worse.

In order for Allie to pretty much not die from this, we would have to feed her...are you ready for this? 420 carbs. How does a normal person eat 420 carbs in a meal, especially when they've had 3 meals today already? (Just as a comparison, Allie normally take 4-6 units of insulin per meal, on average). Well, Allie realized immediately that there was no way that was going to happen. She was shaking and crying and saying she didn't want to die. She told me to call 911. I obeyed immediately. In the meantime, she sucked down 4 Capri Suns while I called the doc. Doc said just keep feeding her and wait for the ambulance. I didn't think her stomach could hold enough; I kept the Glucagon kit in sight. I was so scared, but kept telling Allie everything would be totally okay.

The EMT's/paramedics arrived so quickly. I love and adore them (thank you, Rural Metro, Southwest Ambulance, and the Sheriff's Office! We love you!). They calmed us down by telling us that if necessary, they would put sugar directly into Allie's bloodstream. That relaxed me incredibly, but my brain could still not think properly. I'm usually good with this sort of thing, but 30 units of Novolog pushed me over the top. I knew we were in for a very long night. (Al finally went to sleep around 1, and I stayed up 'til 2 to continue checking her sugar, which dropped another 100 points by then, but then slowed way down. I got up at 6 to check again and of course, can't go back to sleep...another zombie day...fun.)

I really need to take a more careful stock of what's in our pantry at all times. The EMT's wanted me to get some protein in with her carbs and told me to put some peanut butter on the bagel I had given her. I rummaged in the pantry and the fridge, but no peanut butter, just almond butter which had been sitting for forever and needed stirring. As I struggled to get the almond butter to an edible consistency, I muttered, "Am I the only mom in America without peanut butter? Almond butter? What am I, a hippie?" The EMT's laughed. Laughing is good. If they could laugh, then everything was going to be okay.

Once we felt (and the EMT's felt) that we were out of danger, all the emergency workers left and Allie continued to eat. I lay on the couch and tried to wake myself up from this nightmare. I really thought I could for a minute or two. Then I realized this nightmare is our reality; it's our day-to-day life. It's Allie's reality for the rest of her life unless someone finds that cure.

Glucagon is Our Friend

Saturday started off with a BANG! I've never been so scared in my life.

I had just jumped in the shower and barely gotten wet when Todd opened the door and handed me the phone saying it was one of my best friends (we'll call her "A" for anonymity purposes) and an emergency.

A was crying and her voice was shaking and she told me she had just given her sister (we'll call her "L") a glucagon shot because she was so low she was having seizures.

My heart sank, I went numb. I hung up and threw on sweats and drove over (she's only 2 streets away, so it only took like a minute).

When I got there, the whole family was gathered around L who was sitting on the couch looking totally zombied...glassy eyed, confused. It was heartbreaking. I leaned in to her and asked her if she knew who I was. She said no and started crying. So then all of us were crying. It was so traumatic.

I had A check L's sugar and she was coming up nicely...she was well into the safe range, but her mind wasn't quite back yet. She didn't know her little niece and nephew. She couldn't remember her doctor's name or how much insulin she had on board.

It took a full hour for L to come back fully. By then, she could remember pretty much everything and she was just plain tired. I felt so bad for her.

A, my friend--you handled that SO WELL! I am so proud of you. I know how scary that was and you did everything right! YOU ROCK! I'm so glad this happened at your house and not when L was home alone.

Since then, I've had my eye on Allie's glucagon kit every second. I've practically glued it to her body. You just never know.

Bad "D" Day

I am having a bad D day. I think it was sparked by Allie's dad telling me yesterday that she needed her insulin adjusted because she had been having some crazy lows. He asked me who I take her to to have the insulin adjusted. Answer: me. I adjust her insulin. But Allie seems to have taken care of it herself. She thinks her pancreas might be producing a little insulin because she'll be around 300 after a meal and not bolus much and be around 70 within a hour. She thinks it's because of the homeopathic remedy Dr. Gelburd gave her. Or maybe it's me who thought that. Which of course, sparked this painful little iota of hope in my heart that maybe that remedy is the cure. Maybe it's balancing her system out and those rogue beta-cell-killing white blood cells are going remiss and will rest and allow her beta cells to regenerate, to start producing insulin again. I imagine--for just a hair's width of a second--life without needles, lancets, test strips, glucose meters, insulin bottles, cool packs, keytone strips, fear, worry, panic, dread....

Ah, to dream of having freedom and peace back. It's too painful to hope for; the let down too unbearable to deal with.

I

hate

diabetes.

It comes like a spy, like a sneak in the night and steals your good dreams.

It goes out in rippling waves of unbalanced chaos and wreaks havoc on the inside: the kidneys, the heart, the eyes, the tiny blood vessels. "You look so healthy, it can't be that serious." Ha! That's how the trickster gets you in the end. With a subtlety so practiced and perfect it's not recognizable to the untrained eye.

It follows you around all day, all night, every day. It doesn't give you a break. If you turn your head for a minute, it's there waiting to cheat you in yet another way or steal one more piece of your sanity.

I

hate

diabetes.

And now my rant is over.

I am going to go eat something and feel guilty becuase I don't have to first: test my blood sugar, count the carbs, draw up the insulin, inject it, hope it turns out to be the right amount, suffer a blood sugar high or low if it wasn't.

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if i say it enough, it has to come true, right?