Friday, December 26, 2008

I almost said this was a terrible Christmas. I was going to hilight the high blood sugars and the lows, and point out how diabetes does not take a Christmas Hiatus.
But I got about halfway through this story and it hit me how the little things can make or break an entire holiday.
This year things were just too rushed. I wanted to spend time sitting on the sofa with James, sipping coffee, while we watched the kids open surprises that would make their young eyes light up with joy. I wanted to enjoy how sweetly the kids got along on Christmas day, just as I remember my brother and I doing as kids... Playing together, getting along, laughing... while my parents sat in thier pajamas for an extra long time and we layed on our backs with our heads under the Christmas tree, basking in the glory of the day being all about us getting what we wanted while we gazed up at the lights and talked to each other out of happiness.
But this year... It was just too busy.
James had foot surgery on the 23rd, (had to get it in by the end of the year, for insurance purposes) And that caused loads of paperwork to have to be done for the days preceeding, and of course, one of the nurses at my work quit, her last day being the 19th, so I had to be on call more often, and all the shopping was last minute, and I was wrapping presents on Christmas day still, all the while stopping to feed a hungry baby, stop kids from arguing, and make a futile attempt to pick up some of the slack with James being a foot shy of a helpful husband. (he is usually more than helpful... In fact, I need him... just dont tell him I said that out loud)
I found myself wishing I could stop the clock and just enjoy....
And to make things glorious, Nolan lost his kit twice at Grandma and Grandpa Deans house house.
I had just finished feeding the fussy baby and told him to check when he admitted to me that he could not find it, and walked into the kitchen to ask if anyone had seen it.
What did not surprise me was the immediate response of all the adults around, "OH he lost his blood sugar kit? I have not seen it.... and then they all ask around, and do some looking, not find it, and go back to what they were doing, assuming I had located the little bugger.
But I was still looking. Once in awhile, someone would ask if we found it... show some concern, and then go back to what they were doing.
And they probably don't see the importance of it. I used to become really upset when people did not understand... But now I dont feel bad about it. I am no longer on a quest to make the whole world see how crucially he needs his supplies. I have given up on that with no hard feelings. Sure, it would be nice, but that's not realistic, and they are just being who I was before I had a kid with Diabetes.

Nobody is being uncaring, but most of the time, they just dont know how to help, and perhaps the best way to help, is just to stay out of the crazed lunatics way as she tosses stuff around like a wild woman as she looks for a 3X4 inch black sqare case containing a key to her childs life support.

Normally I would be able to enlist James' help... But since he is not walking well currently, I couldn't. I had to get someone to hold the baby, get my coat, and go outside to join Nolan in his quest to find the kit, after the house had been unsuccessfully combed.

As I was opening the front door, and saw a black coat sitting on the bench right next to it, and squinted my eyes a little, and there it was... the outline of the kit.

Leave it to my kid to find the ONLY black thing in the room below eye level and put his kit right there, right on it. COMPLETELY camouflaged.

I grabbed it and opened the front door to see Nolan, walking briskly with his head down, looking through the snow, trying to recall his steps...
And I had to smile, when I saw him, because out there with him, in the cold snow was his Uncle Joe, patiently walking beside him and helping him to look for his kit.

I called out to him, and briefly thanked Joe for helping him....

But I mean to really tell him sometime... just how much that meant to me.

I think the best Christmas gift imaginable is to know that someone else who doesnt necessarily have to, offers some support and love to your kid.

That was the best thing I got for Christmas.


Anonymous said...

i could really identify with this my 4 year old is always losing his kit.The feelings of fear and panic as i wonder if he is high or low. once i sent my husband out to a nature reserve we had been walking in to search for the lost kit only to find it at home under a cushion. it is good to read about another diabetic who is not perfect. good luck hope you keep posting.

Anonymous said...

This blog is really a great source of information for me. Thank you for giving me such important information.