Mark and I had a super fun Sunday planned yesterday. We were going to see The Life of Pi in the morning, then go for a long bike ride in the afternoon. In between the ride and a Boy Scout meeting, I was going to make Mark a rib dinner using my Mom's recipe (his favorite). It was going to be an awesome day...until diabetes got involved.
Poor Mark woke up with a super high blood sugar--520! Ack! (He should be 70-120.) He also had ketones, which are bad. He told me all this at 7:45 while I was sleeping, then quietly left my room and whispered, "Don't worry, I already corrected."
When I REALLY woke up an hour later, I made him check again. His blood sugar had skyrocketed even more--now, the meter just read HI. He had large blood ketones, and I started to panic. I always tell Mark that low blood sugars are a more immediate danger than highs, unless you've been high for a while and you have ketones--that leads to diabetic ketoacidosis, where your body is basically poisoning itself with acid. That's when you end up in the hospital.
And that's what was currently going on with Mark's body.
Now I was wide awake. I got the supplies ready to change Mark's insulin pump set, and we found out why he was so high when the already-loosened old set fell off into Mark's hand.
I put on a the new set, gave Mark a whole lotta insulin and a giant cup of water (to help dilute the ketones), and sat back. The next few hours were gonna get ugly.
Mark re-tested 30 minutes later. He was 542. Still dangerously high, but at least he was coming down.
At 10 a.m., he drank a breakfast shake. He said he felt fine, but I refilled his cup with water, and placed a bucket next to him just in case.
At 11 a.m, he re-tested. 482--still high, but coming down. I felt a little better.
At 11:30, Mark threw up. This was my worst fear, what I'd been dreading--it meant the ketones were winning.
I cleaned Mark up and called for reinforcements--the doctors at the children's hospital. (They always say to call in if the kid throws up even once.)
The doctor explained all the things I did wrong (which I knew, because as soon as I said them out loud, I realized what I SHOULD have done--correct the first high with a syringe, check the set immediately). I kicked myself for being lame, for being human, and I agreed with the doctor--yes, I should set an alarm and wake myself up again at night when he's high, yes, I should be more vigilant, yes, I should...blah blah blah. By the time I hung up, I was kinda mad. I'm doing the best I can here, and this was a fluke. This is not how we typically manage diabetes in our house--what I really wanted to know from the doctor was whether or not to take Mark to the ER.
The doc said to take Mark in if he throws up 2 or 3 more times.
"I'm taking him in the next time he throws up," I told her and she agreed that was fine. She told me to keep the food light--soup only for now. I hurried off the phone to check on my pale little kid.
He felt a lot better, and when he checked his blood ketones, I knew why--they were all gone. But I didn't trust the meter, and made him re-check. Still gone. Mark's blood sugar was down to 327, and it was the only time I've actually been glad to see a number in the 300s. I breathed a huge sigh, and felt like we might actually beat this.
I half-corrected Mark, as the doctor suggested, so all that rage bolusing I'd done early didn't catch up and actually send him low. And then finally, around 2, he felt well enough to eat something.
I fed him a bowl of chicken soup.
"Is this canned soup or homemade?" he asked, suspiciously. He was finally acting like himself again.
"Canned," I said, and he looked at me, disbelieving.
"You won't eat it if I say homemade," I said, and he just shrugged and slurped up the rest of his soup. But as the afternoon wore on, he gradually returned to normal Mark, and eventually, most (but not all) of my worry dissipated.
And now here it is, a day later. I can look back with hindsight at all the things I should have done, but it doesn't really help. What helps now is knowing we overcame it, and that not everything was wasted--Mark got to spend most of the day on his bean bag chair in front of the T.V., which he loved. And he got a bonus day off school for Lincoln's birthday, so he didn't lose his whole weekend.
But I'm not as forgiving. Fine, diabetes, you won this round. I may have slipped up this weekend, but I won't next time. I'm gonna keep on you, and I'm not gonna let up. You may have ruined this Sunday, but that's all I'm giving you. That's all you get.
Until next time....
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