Our Weekend

We spent this last weekend in Vancouver. It was great to see the folks up there and just nice to get away for a day or two.

The kids spent a lot of time in the pool. It was nice to have an indoor pool since the weather wasn't too warm. We discovered sensors don't stay in the best when you spend long hours in the pool -- even when double taped!

Sain and Nikitta had fun drawing on the sidewalk. By the end of the evening the entire area was covered. When it got dark they continued their drawings inside.

Aidan was so happy to see Aunt Connie and to show her how happy Dogdog is. (Connie got Dogdog for Aidan when he was born.)

(Sain, Aidan, Connie and Kelton -- I can't believe Kelton is almost 17!)

On the way home we made one last stop before the border -- this is our favorite park in White Rock.

Encouraging Stuff!

http://uk.reuters.com/article/rbssHealthcareNews/idUKN1338055520090414

Very random happenings from the last week, or so

I've been negligent and not posted in a bit... sorry. I was having a bit of a contemplative Holy Week with too much on my mind. I think I'm back to normal now. (Have I ever really been "normal" though?)

05 April was Sáin’s 4th diagnosis anniversary. We played it pretty low key this year. To “celebrate” Sáin, Aidan and I went to Sheri’s for dessert… it seemed fitting to celebrate diabetes with sugar!

The rest of the week was pretty mellow. (There is a funny story about Aidan singing “spider pig” from the Simpson’s movie when we were supposed to be quietly walking out of church on Palm Sunday but besides that there was lots of karate, lots of school work, lots of Easter prep)

Last Saturday we attended the late night Easter vigil. Things were going along well until I heard (almost simultaneously) the distinctive CGM alarm and the four dreaded words, “Mom, I feel low.” Sure enough, Sáin was low (62) but I had planned ahead and packed 2 extra juices. We treated and thought all was clear.

About 15 minutes later I look over and Sáin is staring off into space with a glazed look on her face. I test – 54. Luckily I have the second juice. Sáin drinks and quickly looks better.

Another 10 minutes later we are to communion and I hear those dreaded words again. We test and she’s only 55. At this point I start to panic – I’ve got no more fast acting sugar with me. We somehow make it through communion (the only thing I could think at this time was how much I wish the body of Christ had a lot higher carb count) and quietly sneak out.

I awkwardly carried my 74 pound kid back to the car – conveniently parked blocks away at the request of our priest to leave parking spots for the folks who do not attend as often. I got 2 more juices in her and all seemed well.

The rest of Easter was calm. The kids made out like bandits with money from both the Easter Bunny and Grandma and Grandpa (more from Grandma and Grandpa – the Easter Bunny’s really feeling the economy!)

Yesterday Sáin was back in Urgent Care with yet another broken toe. How sad is it that both the ER at Children’s and Valley Medical Center’s Urgent Care clinic know us by name? The doctor said she probably broke it mid-week last week and that it’s healing nicely. He was concerned that she might’ve broken the foot because of all the swelling but it turned out to only be the toe.

And, probably the most important thing, HAPPY 75th BIRTHDAY, DAD! (pow, pow, pow, I got you!)

Emily Dickinson and Diabetes

I know, a strange pairing but Emily Dickinson best sums up how I feel now.

For someone with a known temper, I can deal fairly calmly with people spreading over-generalized, misinformation about diabetes. We've been forced to for 4 years.

I can deal fairly calmly with a lot of "best of intention" type things. At least people are trying, right?

What I am finding it really hard to deal with is my daughter being told by someone she really, really respects that there will probably never be a cure for diabetes. Especially since it was in a class setting during the time Sain is raising money for her cure!

Sain lives for a cure, she dreams of a cure, every prayer in our house ends with "and a cure for diabetes." Sure we have our days of doubts but her life depends on that cure and to have someone she idolizes tell her (and a group of other kids) that there won't be a cure is devastating.

So, to Emily Dickinson we go. This is how I feel right now:

It dropped so low in my regard
I heard it hit the ground,
And go to pieces on the stones
At the bottom of my mind;

Yet blamed the fate that fractured, less
Than I reviled myself
For entertaining plated wares
Upon my silver shelf.

-- Emily Dickinson