Well, we're home now and she's going back to school tomorrow. We met with the school nurse and her teacher and have a tentative plan for testing, snacking, and giving herself shots. Since it's not all "official," I have to take the insulin in to her at lunch time. Once the doctor signs the forms, she can keep it with her.
Her teacher is AWESOME and so is pretty much everyone at her school. Word travelled pretty fast today, which happens in a school that's as close-knit as ours is. She's only got school through Thursday this week and then we're off all of next week. For now, I'll go in at lunch and provide support for her. I'll be doing that as long as she needs me to.
In other news, it appears that she probably has Celiac disease as well. They routinely screen newly diagnosed diabetics for it and something else (I can't remember the other thing) because it often goes hand-in-hand with diabetes. She's got a pretty high number on whatever the blood test was, so I have to take her in to the Pediatric GI clinic where they'll run another test to confirm it. Then I get to begin the gluten-free adventure.
We'll be getting Alana screened as well, as soon as we can. There is a blood test they can do that would indicate whether or not she's got a predisposition for diabetes so we'll know to watch her. Regardless, I'll keep an eye on her, but it would be good to know that she's probably NOT going to get diabetes.
I'm hanging in there and keeping myself VERY busy. I'm really afraid to let go because I'm not sure I'll be able to pull myself back together. I KNOW that I've only made it this far through prayer and the strength of my friends and family.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Sunday, March 22, 2009
When it rains......
Shannon is 10 and in 5th grade, and, just 4 months after Tristan's diagnosis, she has also developed type 1 diabetes.
She was complaining last week of just not feeling very well. She came home from school early on Wednesday and didn't go on Thursday, but felt better so she went on Friday. Saturday afternoon, she volunteered to take a nap. As in "I think I'll go take a nap." She'd done this several times over the last few days, and I honestly chalked it up to one of the myriad of viruses that are floating around right now.
But, she was drinking an awful lot. And she was complaining that her legs hurt for no apparent reason. And, by the by, she'd lost 3 lbs over the week. So, on a whim, we tested her blood sugar. The meter simply read "HI," which means it's over 700 (normal is right around 100, but no higher than 180).
Uh, what?!
So we checked her for blood keytones and they were in the "have her evaluated" borderline range. We schlepped the other two over to the neighbor's and took Shannon to Primary Children's ER. They got to us pretty quickly and told us that there really was no other explanation for a sugar that high. They gave her some IV fluids, but the child WALKED up to her room. That seems so odd to me, that a child with an illness requiring an ER trip and hospitalization is walking to her room.
She wasn't nearly as sick as Tristan was because we caught it before it got too bad. She's in good spirits, eating and drinking and loving that she can order ANYTHING she wants off the menu. She's joking with us and with the nurses and watching movies in between her "classes," and loving that too.
So we're learning her ratios and dosages and all of that. And she's learning how to test her sugar and give herself insulin injections. So far, she hasn't pricked her finger or done the actual shot, but she's done everything else. They won't let her leave the hospital until she's doing this herself, or at least has done it once or twice. She really, really, REALLY wants to come home tomorrow, so I think she'll get it.
In the meantime, Bruce was supposed to fly out on a business trip today. Clearly he's not going, and his coworkers have been AMAZING about it. Someone else is leaving early tomorrow morning, with less than 24 hours notice. Another coworker, whom I've never met, brought Shannon an adorable floppy sheep dog stuffed animal (his name is now "Rover").
I don't really know what else to say. There is a genetic component to all of this, leaving a person with a predisposition for this because it's an autoimmune disorder. The cells in her pancreas that make insulin are dying and will eventually all die off. In general, the chances of a person developing Type 1 Diabetes if a sibling has it are 10%, so her chances of not having it were 90%. Only now, it's 100%. Statistics don't mean much, do they?
She was complaining last week of just not feeling very well. She came home from school early on Wednesday and didn't go on Thursday, but felt better so she went on Friday. Saturday afternoon, she volunteered to take a nap. As in "I think I'll go take a nap." She'd done this several times over the last few days, and I honestly chalked it up to one of the myriad of viruses that are floating around right now.
But, she was drinking an awful lot. And she was complaining that her legs hurt for no apparent reason. And, by the by, she'd lost 3 lbs over the week. So, on a whim, we tested her blood sugar. The meter simply read "HI," which means it's over 700 (normal is right around 100, but no higher than 180).
Uh, what?!
So we checked her for blood keytones and they were in the "have her evaluated" borderline range. We schlepped the other two over to the neighbor's and took Shannon to Primary Children's ER. They got to us pretty quickly and told us that there really was no other explanation for a sugar that high. They gave her some IV fluids, but the child WALKED up to her room. That seems so odd to me, that a child with an illness requiring an ER trip and hospitalization is walking to her room.
She wasn't nearly as sick as Tristan was because we caught it before it got too bad. She's in good spirits, eating and drinking and loving that she can order ANYTHING she wants off the menu. She's joking with us and with the nurses and watching movies in between her "classes," and loving that too.
So we're learning her ratios and dosages and all of that. And she's learning how to test her sugar and give herself insulin injections. So far, she hasn't pricked her finger or done the actual shot, but she's done everything else. They won't let her leave the hospital until she's doing this herself, or at least has done it once or twice. She really, really, REALLY wants to come home tomorrow, so I think she'll get it.
In the meantime, Bruce was supposed to fly out on a business trip today. Clearly he's not going, and his coworkers have been AMAZING about it. Someone else is leaving early tomorrow morning, with less than 24 hours notice. Another coworker, whom I've never met, brought Shannon an adorable floppy sheep dog stuffed animal (his name is now "Rover").
I don't really know what else to say. There is a genetic component to all of this, leaving a person with a predisposition for this because it's an autoimmune disorder. The cells in her pancreas that make insulin are dying and will eventually all die off. In general, the chances of a person developing Type 1 Diabetes if a sibling has it are 10%, so her chances of not having it were 90%. Only now, it's 100%. Statistics don't mean much, do they?
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Another update
State Farm just called (my insurance company). They're offering us a VERY nice settlement, and it includes the taxes and licensing we just barely paid on it! I need to go get the title, check the van out one more time for personal property and then sign it over to the insurance. So far, they've determined that Vehicle #3 is 100% at fault for the rear damage to the van. The front stuff is still pending.
But, all in all, great news! Now to find something new to drive!
But, all in all, great news! Now to find something new to drive!
Monday, March 16, 2009
Crash Update
Well, I've now heard from my insurance company and the company of the man who hit me.
My insurance company is handling the immediate repairs and such, moved the van from the tow lot to the body shop, etc. It's easier, I guess, and faster to get it started this way and then have the two insurance companies work out who owes whom.
I have a rental car, but the policy on my van didn't include this coverage. I'm not sure when we dropped it, but we did. So we may be out the cost of the rental car, *if* there are issues with how much each party is at fault.
Bruce seems to be thoroughly convinced we're going to get scr*wed. I'm thoroughly convinced we're going to get a fair and accurate settlement. So, naturally he's driving me BONKERS! Good thing he's swamped at work and essentially must let me handle it or I'd have to strangle him.
My insurance said that much of this hinges on what the lead car says....if they felt only one impact, then it's very clear that I was pushed into him. If they felt two separate impacts, then I hit them first and then was hit. Of course, I did NOT hit them (much to my relief) until I was hit from behind. This is further complicated by the fact that the driver that hit me is from Oregon and his insurance company has been unable to reach him, probably because he's here on vacation or something.
My mother is a bit, um, condescending about how I don't have the phone numbers for the other drivers. The police officer handed me a lovely print out with lots of info on it, and I assumed it included necessary contact information. All of our street addresses were left off, and there were no phone numbers. When mom realized that I didn't have the numbers, she got rather snotty about it. I do have the phone number of the police officer.....wonder if he has more info?
In the meantime, my knee is turning pretty colors and it's sore, but not horribly bad. Saturday night was the worst, so I'm sure it's healing nicely.
The gentleman who sold us the Pilot called to talk about a couple of things we added to it, including a trailer brake. Well, the trailer stuff the dealership ASSURED us included the brake did not, in fact, include the brake (a trailer brake sends a signal to the trailer whenever the truck's brakes are applied so that the trailer's brakes are also applied....it's easier to have the rear vehicle slowing you down, rather than having the truck doing all the slowing....hope that makes sense). So, the dealership is paying for a trailer place to install the brake they promised us. Now he knows about our accident so he's looking for a used van for us. I need to be able to haul kids and soccer balls and things. We won't know anything about the van, totalling it, settlement or any of that until the end of the week at the earliest.
But, everyone's been exceedingly kind and considerate and I'm, so far, very impressed with our insurance.
Continued prayers for a speedy and fair resolution would be appreciated.
PS....Mom goes home tomorrow, about a day past driving me completely, utterly, bat-poo CRAZY!!!!!
My insurance company is handling the immediate repairs and such, moved the van from the tow lot to the body shop, etc. It's easier, I guess, and faster to get it started this way and then have the two insurance companies work out who owes whom.
I have a rental car, but the policy on my van didn't include this coverage. I'm not sure when we dropped it, but we did. So we may be out the cost of the rental car, *if* there are issues with how much each party is at fault.
Bruce seems to be thoroughly convinced we're going to get scr*wed. I'm thoroughly convinced we're going to get a fair and accurate settlement. So, naturally he's driving me BONKERS! Good thing he's swamped at work and essentially must let me handle it or I'd have to strangle him.
My insurance said that much of this hinges on what the lead car says....if they felt only one impact, then it's very clear that I was pushed into him. If they felt two separate impacts, then I hit them first and then was hit. Of course, I did NOT hit them (much to my relief) until I was hit from behind. This is further complicated by the fact that the driver that hit me is from Oregon and his insurance company has been unable to reach him, probably because he's here on vacation or something.
My mother is a bit, um, condescending about how I don't have the phone numbers for the other drivers. The police officer handed me a lovely print out with lots of info on it, and I assumed it included necessary contact information. All of our street addresses were left off, and there were no phone numbers. When mom realized that I didn't have the numbers, she got rather snotty about it. I do have the phone number of the police officer.....wonder if he has more info?
In the meantime, my knee is turning pretty colors and it's sore, but not horribly bad. Saturday night was the worst, so I'm sure it's healing nicely.
The gentleman who sold us the Pilot called to talk about a couple of things we added to it, including a trailer brake. Well, the trailer stuff the dealership ASSURED us included the brake did not, in fact, include the brake (a trailer brake sends a signal to the trailer whenever the truck's brakes are applied so that the trailer's brakes are also applied....it's easier to have the rear vehicle slowing you down, rather than having the truck doing all the slowing....hope that makes sense). So, the dealership is paying for a trailer place to install the brake they promised us. Now he knows about our accident so he's looking for a used van for us. I need to be able to haul kids and soccer balls and things. We won't know anything about the van, totalling it, settlement or any of that until the end of the week at the earliest.
But, everyone's been exceedingly kind and considerate and I'm, so far, very impressed with our insurance.
Continued prayers for a speedy and fair resolution would be appreciated.
PS....Mom goes home tomorrow, about a day past driving me completely, utterly, bat-poo CRAZY!!!!!
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Crunch!
So a week ago we bought a new Honda Pilot. The car it replaced had just come from the repair shop with an estimate for more than 3X its value, so we decided it was time to buy something else. The Honda is fabulous! It seats 8, airbags all around, heated leather seats, towing capacity that's high enough to easily tow our camping trailer, etc.....just a great new vehicle for us.
The only down side is that I was still stuck driving the van because I put lots of miles on a vehicle with all my running around, even with it consolidated.
Yesterday, I had a small CM booth at a teacher's conference at a school about 20 miles away. I had the van because it's just a bit longer and holds my display stuff better.
On my way home, traffic's moving great.....then it wasn't. We all slam on the brakes, and I missed the truck in front of me by a couple of feet. The truck behind me, however, couldn't stop in time....I was sandwiched between the two.
My van is now two feet shorter and leaking various and sundry fluids all over the tow company's lot
Thankfully, everyone was fine. There was a baby in the truck in front of me who got a good once-over by the paramedics and I'm sporting a beautiful bruise where my knee hit the dashboard/steering column. The driver of the truck who hit me freely admitted fault and everyone was really nice, under the circumstances. It could've been SO much worse.
I had one bag that had been in the very back of the van (seats were all folded down to accomodate my display stuff) that landed in the passenger seat. And I couldn't figure out where all the black plastic bits came from.....
Um, that would be the remains of my rear windshield.
And there's a lovely imprint of GMC in the rear of my van. The impacts pretty much crunched the front and rear, but the passenger compartment was completely intact.
So, we'll be contributing to the economy yet again once the insurance sorts it all out. A neighbor has offered to take my kids to school in the morning and it's not my week for carpool. I should have a rental car by tomorrow afternoon.
Really, it's just stuff. Plastic and metal.
Hassle? Yes, but honestly, I'm so very grateful.
The only down side is that I was still stuck driving the van because I put lots of miles on a vehicle with all my running around, even with it consolidated.
Yesterday, I had a small CM booth at a teacher's conference at a school about 20 miles away. I had the van because it's just a bit longer and holds my display stuff better.
On my way home, traffic's moving great.....then it wasn't. We all slam on the brakes, and I missed the truck in front of me by a couple of feet. The truck behind me, however, couldn't stop in time....I was sandwiched between the two.
My van is now two feet shorter and leaking various and sundry fluids all over the tow company's lot
Thankfully, everyone was fine. There was a baby in the truck in front of me who got a good once-over by the paramedics and I'm sporting a beautiful bruise where my knee hit the dashboard/steering column. The driver of the truck who hit me freely admitted fault and everyone was really nice, under the circumstances. It could've been SO much worse.
I had one bag that had been in the very back of the van (seats were all folded down to accomodate my display stuff) that landed in the passenger seat. And I couldn't figure out where all the black plastic bits came from.....
Um, that would be the remains of my rear windshield.
And there's a lovely imprint of GMC in the rear of my van. The impacts pretty much crunched the front and rear, but the passenger compartment was completely intact.
So, we'll be contributing to the economy yet again once the insurance sorts it all out. A neighbor has offered to take my kids to school in the morning and it's not my week for carpool. I should have a rental car by tomorrow afternoon.
Really, it's just stuff. Plastic and metal.
Hassle? Yes, but honestly, I'm so very grateful.
Friday, March 13, 2009
It's Friday the 13th, alright!
Delta called with a recorded message this morning. They've changed both of my flights for my trip for my sister's graduation. I'm now leaving here at 8:20 pm on that Tuesday, arriving at 9:00. The return flight, however, is a problem......They have me leaving at 6:15 am. Do you know what time I have to be at the airport for that flight?! Before the butt-crack of dawn....And, I checked for other flights....it's the ONLY one from there to here on that day. *groan*
And then, while listening to this and swearing, a call from the school beeped through. It was Miss Pace.
Alana threw up.
In the classroom
After I sent her to school complaining that she just didn't feel like going, blah, blah, blah.
Yes, I'm the new Mom of the year.
*sigh*
And then, while listening to this and swearing, a call from the school beeped through. It was Miss Pace.
Alana threw up.
In the classroom
After I sent her to school complaining that she just didn't feel like going, blah, blah, blah.
Yes, I'm the new Mom of the year.
*sigh*
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
On Fear
I've never really been a worrier, not about most things. The maternal units are probably the most glaring exception to that, but in most instances, that's just not me. I don't worry about the kids at school or Bruce on his business trips. When we went to San Diego, I really didn't worry about the kids, and I didn't worry that something would happen to us. I just don't worry about those things the way some people do.
One of my cardinal rules is that decisions made out of fear are rarely the right ones. Decisions based in "I don't want...." or "what if?" almost never cross my mind. I'm generally one that looks at things and decides what I DO want and I go from there.
But Tristan's diabetes and the resulting hospital stay, plus the day-to-day living with it have truly shaken me to the core. Suddenly my world just doesn't seem safe anymore.
Today, on the way to take the girls to school, an ambulance went by with lights and sirens going. It turned down the street toward the Junior High. A fire truck followed just a few minutes later (there are often paramedics on fire trucks, so around here, a medical emergency gets you both). I felt this black thing gripping my heart.....it felt like my heart stopped for a moment, and I had to tell myself to breathe.
It was fear.
Fear that they were going to the Junior High because Tristan had passed out. Fear that something horrible had happened to him. Even now, as I type this, I can feel that fear again. There's really no logical reason for me to be this fearful. There are 1200 students at that school, and hundreds of residents in the area around it. They probably weren't even going to the Junior High.
And yet. Fear.
I can't quite shake it. Please tell me this gets better. Please tell me that it will get easier. Please tell me that I won't worry about losing him every waking moment.
But see, we almost DID lose him. Right now, that's so very close to the surface and the fear it brings is so new to me. I just don't know what to do with it, how to handle it, and most importantly, I don't know how to live with it.
I hate this.
I really really really hate this.
It's wrong on so many levels.
A child shouldn't have to stab himself 8 times a day or more. Childhood is not supposed ot HURT, damn it.
And I hate, more than anything, that I can't do a damn thing about it!
One of my cardinal rules is that decisions made out of fear are rarely the right ones. Decisions based in "I don't want...." or "what if?" almost never cross my mind. I'm generally one that looks at things and decides what I DO want and I go from there.
But Tristan's diabetes and the resulting hospital stay, plus the day-to-day living with it have truly shaken me to the core. Suddenly my world just doesn't seem safe anymore.
Today, on the way to take the girls to school, an ambulance went by with lights and sirens going. It turned down the street toward the Junior High. A fire truck followed just a few minutes later (there are often paramedics on fire trucks, so around here, a medical emergency gets you both). I felt this black thing gripping my heart.....it felt like my heart stopped for a moment, and I had to tell myself to breathe.
It was fear.
Fear that they were going to the Junior High because Tristan had passed out. Fear that something horrible had happened to him. Even now, as I type this, I can feel that fear again. There's really no logical reason for me to be this fearful. There are 1200 students at that school, and hundreds of residents in the area around it. They probably weren't even going to the Junior High.
And yet. Fear.
I can't quite shake it. Please tell me this gets better. Please tell me that it will get easier. Please tell me that I won't worry about losing him every waking moment.
But see, we almost DID lose him. Right now, that's so very close to the surface and the fear it brings is so new to me. I just don't know what to do with it, how to handle it, and most importantly, I don't know how to live with it.
I hate this.
I really really really hate this.
It's wrong on so many levels.
A child shouldn't have to stab himself 8 times a day or more. Childhood is not supposed ot HURT, damn it.
And I hate, more than anything, that I can't do a damn thing about it!
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