The bright and the dark side of parenting a child with Type 1 Diabetes. Written by a mother, a nurse, and a woman with a decent sense of humor.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Things not to do with a quickset inserter
Catchy title, I know, Though perhaps this blog may be more aptly titled, "How to lose your childs trust and cause great emotional disturbance in less than one second"
I know I pretty much gave the whole blog away with that. But, still, if you could spare a moment, read on, and see what a jerk of a mother I am.
My son Nolan has done all of his own shots since day two of having diabetes. All of them. I have had to sneak up on him as he sleeps do do lantus, and now, as he pumps, I dont even get that joy.
A seven year old boy with sandy colored hair and hazel-green eyes took his first syringe in hand, holding it carefully, wonderously, and dreadfully between little tan fingers with white nails bitten to the nub, he touched the surface of his flawless child-skin with the tip of the thin needle. He turned it, as I looked on, Biting my tongue. Seconds passed. Seconds turned into minutes, as he turned the needle around and around in both directions, and pinched the skin.
His fingers released the syringe, and gravity slowly sunk the hub of the needle into the epidermis, and slightly into the dermis where his nerve endings gave him reason to pause. Twisting once more, he began to bite his lower lip. His eyebrows cinched and he slowly forced the hair-fine needle into his subcutaneous layer. Very audibly he let his breath out, and climbed his fingers carefully up the syringe and pushed the plunger down.
And every injection, and every site change has been the same ever since. He never let anyone do his injections, he never let anyone change his sites.
My son is a control freak, and likes to do his sites alone, with nobody breathing down his neck..
He does them slowly, by hand, in a very painstaking manner.
It hurts to watch.
I just want him to do it fast. I just want the stress to stop and for him to just get over it and get on with it and then with life. But he is not like that.
And I cant accept it.
I got the big idea that he should start using an insertion device after seeing how many kids at camp have no pain with it.
I helped a girl use a Sil serter for the first time and she said, "OH MY GOSH! THAT IS SO MUCH BETTER!!!" Her parents never bought one for her, and since I had an extra one, that I gave to somone who had one already, just for a spare, I asked for it back and gave her that one.
She walked home so happy that she had found a new way to insert her sites.
I thought that I could get Nolan to try it and see if he liked it better, instead of spending so much time with his ritual, he could just push a button and...."POP" it would be over.
Now, I would not try to get him to do something that I had not done, I have tried a site inserter to put a site in my own arm, and the insertion did not hurt one bit. However, after a few minutes the site started feeling really.... crappy, (for lack of a better word) It was tender, and annoying. I took it out. I am a wuss. But I get it now.
So, I took it into my head to buy an inserter for the quick set, and had it shipped with the next batch of sites.
There it came in a little box... all blue, and harmless. Looking like a tiny alien spacecraft. I loved it. I was going to help Nolan see that insertions did not need to be such a prolonged trecherous thing.
They could be fast and easy and something you could do in a heartbeat.
So, I showed it to him, and offered a reward for trying it.
He said, "OK" but he wanted to go do it himself in the bathroom.
He has been afraid of inserters SO much that he has hidden under a chair in the educators office, in tears.
But this time would be different. I would show him how his diabetes could be a little easier.
But I thought, if I let him alone, he is going to do it by hand, and just say he did it.
I followed him into the bathroom, saying, "I want to watch" He said no, I ignored and pushed on, because, Hey, he is going to like it!!!!!
He held it to his stomach and whimpered, and tried a little, and I sat by, prompting him on, encouraging him, reminding him of how good squash cakes were once he tried them...
Soon, he was crying, and I took the inserter from him, and he sat with his head in his hands, crying... the pressure, I suppose.
So, was I sympathetic?
Of course not.
I looked, and thought, and stared at his shirtless torso. I cautiously moved my right hand toward his abdomen as his head remained in his hands. I tested to see if he could see, by making a few fast motions. He could not see. He had his eyes covered.
I looked at the inserter, and at his side skin, and in less than a second I pressed it on his skin and pushed and the site was in.
Now... what was supposed to happen is tha the would say, "NOOOO-- dont!!!! leave me alone!" and then I would point out that it was already in, and he would look at it, smile, and say. "OH!"
But that is not what happened.
He screamed immediately, a scream, not of pain, but shock, horror, and hurt. He screamed like I just sold him. He screamed, and he ran, as tears flew from his eyes, he ran to his bedroom, where he screamed and cried for another ten minutes.
So, maybe not the best Idea I had.
I had so wanted to make him see that this was better.
And really, is it?
I know now that I only wanted to teach him something cool about D,
But I realize now, as I hold him in my arms and apologize to him for breaking his trust... That is is always him that will teach me.
As it always has been, it is HIS diabetes. Not mine.
Also, I am up for mother of the year award, so... go ahead and cast your vote my way....
I know I pretty much gave the whole blog away with that. But, still, if you could spare a moment, read on, and see what a jerk of a mother I am.
My son Nolan has done all of his own shots since day two of having diabetes. All of them. I have had to sneak up on him as he sleeps do do lantus, and now, as he pumps, I dont even get that joy.
A seven year old boy with sandy colored hair and hazel-green eyes took his first syringe in hand, holding it carefully, wonderously, and dreadfully between little tan fingers with white nails bitten to the nub, he touched the surface of his flawless child-skin with the tip of the thin needle. He turned it, as I looked on, Biting my tongue. Seconds passed. Seconds turned into minutes, as he turned the needle around and around in both directions, and pinched the skin.
His fingers released the syringe, and gravity slowly sunk the hub of the needle into the epidermis, and slightly into the dermis where his nerve endings gave him reason to pause. Twisting once more, he began to bite his lower lip. His eyebrows cinched and he slowly forced the hair-fine needle into his subcutaneous layer. Very audibly he let his breath out, and climbed his fingers carefully up the syringe and pushed the plunger down.
And every injection, and every site change has been the same ever since. He never let anyone do his injections, he never let anyone change his sites.
My son is a control freak, and likes to do his sites alone, with nobody breathing down his neck..
He does them slowly, by hand, in a very painstaking manner.
It hurts to watch.
I just want him to do it fast. I just want the stress to stop and for him to just get over it and get on with it and then with life. But he is not like that.
And I cant accept it.
I got the big idea that he should start using an insertion device after seeing how many kids at camp have no pain with it.
I helped a girl use a Sil serter for the first time and she said, "OH MY GOSH! THAT IS SO MUCH BETTER!!!" Her parents never bought one for her, and since I had an extra one, that I gave to somone who had one already, just for a spare, I asked for it back and gave her that one.
She walked home so happy that she had found a new way to insert her sites.
I thought that I could get Nolan to try it and see if he liked it better, instead of spending so much time with his ritual, he could just push a button and...."POP" it would be over.
Now, I would not try to get him to do something that I had not done, I have tried a site inserter to put a site in my own arm, and the insertion did not hurt one bit. However, after a few minutes the site started feeling really.... crappy, (for lack of a better word) It was tender, and annoying. I took it out. I am a wuss. But I get it now.
So, I took it into my head to buy an inserter for the quick set, and had it shipped with the next batch of sites.
There it came in a little box... all blue, and harmless. Looking like a tiny alien spacecraft. I loved it. I was going to help Nolan see that insertions did not need to be such a prolonged trecherous thing.
They could be fast and easy and something you could do in a heartbeat.
So, I showed it to him, and offered a reward for trying it.
He said, "OK" but he wanted to go do it himself in the bathroom.
He has been afraid of inserters SO much that he has hidden under a chair in the educators office, in tears.
But this time would be different. I would show him how his diabetes could be a little easier.
But I thought, if I let him alone, he is going to do it by hand, and just say he did it.
I followed him into the bathroom, saying, "I want to watch" He said no, I ignored and pushed on, because, Hey, he is going to like it!!!!!
He held it to his stomach and whimpered, and tried a little, and I sat by, prompting him on, encouraging him, reminding him of how good squash cakes were once he tried them...
Soon, he was crying, and I took the inserter from him, and he sat with his head in his hands, crying... the pressure, I suppose.
So, was I sympathetic?
Of course not.
I looked, and thought, and stared at his shirtless torso. I cautiously moved my right hand toward his abdomen as his head remained in his hands. I tested to see if he could see, by making a few fast motions. He could not see. He had his eyes covered.
I looked at the inserter, and at his side skin, and in less than a second I pressed it on his skin and pushed and the site was in.
Now... what was supposed to happen is tha the would say, "NOOOO-- dont!!!! leave me alone!" and then I would point out that it was already in, and he would look at it, smile, and say. "OH!"
But that is not what happened.
He screamed immediately, a scream, not of pain, but shock, horror, and hurt. He screamed like I just sold him. He screamed, and he ran, as tears flew from his eyes, he ran to his bedroom, where he screamed and cried for another ten minutes.
So, maybe not the best Idea I had.
I had so wanted to make him see that this was better.
And really, is it?
I know now that I only wanted to teach him something cool about D,
But I realize now, as I hold him in my arms and apologize to him for breaking his trust... That is is always him that will teach me.
As it always has been, it is HIS diabetes. Not mine.
Also, I am up for mother of the year award, so... go ahead and cast your vote my way....
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