School daze

Sometimes I get so mad that my head spins... I get to the point that I cannot even think straight. I want to break out of my own mind and scream... some type of release.... you know....
But I am grown. And I can't do that anymore.
I have to act my age and try to fit in with society. I can't get a mohawk to express my dissatisfaction with society anymore. I am like a hippie that stopped hipping and went to work for the man. That is me.
So I take my kids to school, and I hope that all goes well. I encourage them to have thier own opinions, and not to care what others think. It seems to me that my oldest has a good grasp on this. He really could not possibly care less, he is like me... or like I was...
But my youngest... He cares.
Now dont get me wrong here, I would never do what I did if I thought that school were anexceptionally educational, enlightening and provocative place for them, , then I would not let them miss a moment. But, since I do see school as a sort of hum drum experience, (not at the fault of the teachers, or the adminstration, it is at the fault of American priorities) I do not rely on school as a place for my kids to gather information, or a place for my childrens minds to flourish... I rely on my giving them unique experiences, and allowing them to think for themselves.
They are smart. And to me... the grades do not matter much at all.
So what I did was I took them to the vet with me and a new dog we had. One reason was that I was not sure tht the dog would be coming home. He seemed sick, and I thought that they would be telling us to have him put to sleep. I wanted them to understand why if it needed to happen.
So, I called school, told them my plan, and the office lady cheerfully said, "OK GREAT!" and hung up.
But when I dropped the kids off for school an hour late, they got "a talkin' to" by the office ladies, telling them that "That is NOT a good reason for calling in late!"
They could have told me that when I called, but I am grown... and for whatever reason, it is easier and comes more naturally for them to come down on little kids for something that they don't make decisions on in the first place.
So my kids told me about it the next day. I was mad. I called school immdeiately and the phone was answered by Janice, the lady who does lunch tickets.
"Apparently someone has been telling the boys why they can and can't be late...." I started, and Janice, who is the one that the boys told me got on them first, said, "I'll let you talk to Jean, she's the one that deals with this."
Jean was on the phone in a few moments. She thought I should talk to the principal about it. I told her that if they had a problem, or needed to get something off of their chest, they all have my phone numbers and can talk to me. Patrick gets stomach aches over being in "trouble" and it is MY fault not his...
My kids asked about if I talked to them about the whole ordeal or not and I told them, that I would be talking to principal Kollars soon...
That is when Nolan said it.
-- mind you... I do not allow my kids to be disrespectful to thier teachers, or principals... they KNOW they will catch hell for being disrespectful, and they also know that I do NOT stand behind them for thier wrongdoings... I am not "one of those" parents.-----

"Jean always says, 'Hurry up Nolan, I have other things to do!'" Nolan mocked a snotty, annoyed tone.

"Uh... what?" I shook my head to make room for this information, scooby doo style...
Nolan repeated himself
"Why does she tell you to hurry up?" I asked...
"when I'm bolusing."
uh huh. telling him to hurry up and take his insulin... hm... I dont like the sounds of this, but... lets give her one more way out before we assume fault here.
"Are you... taking a long time, or is it taking a while to add up the carbs... or are you farting around in the office, or... what is happening when she says this?" I ask, trying to use the most laid back tone ever...
"No," he is exaperated, "I dont know why! She says it right when I walk in the office!!!"
oh no she doesnt.
I felt my neck start to go, my head go off to the right... and all I could think is, "them is fighting words!!!"

Oh no. no she did not. Oh no. that is NOT going to happen. NOBODY is going to tell MY baby to hurry up and take his insulin ESPECIALLY someone who accidentally told him to bolus for what his blood sugar level was one time... 103.. after he'd eaten less than 30 carbs for lunch, then called me, saying that they did not have anything for him to eat to even that out...
Oh no she did not.
It was like Nolan could read my ready-to-fight-someone mind....
"she says that every time mom!"
I could feel my blood start to boil.

************************************************************************************
I have had one entire weekend to let this get better, or fester... and I must say that it has done a bit of both. I feel more put together about it, but I feel more angry too. The level of frusteration I have is not natural. I only wish something could be done, but to force adults to be nice to a kid that they dont want to deal with is just not easy to do.
I could hover over them daily and make sure they dont say anything mean to my kid.
His life is hard enough with Diabetes to deal with...
Let alone adults acting like complete jerks.

*sigh*
who could be mean to this kid.




You will have to turn your volume way up... it was windy.

Your nurse

Your relationship with your nurse can make or break your treatment in so many ways.
I am so happy to say that I LOVE Cheryl at Dr. Guptas office. She is quite possibly the most supportive and wonderful person I have dealt with in Nolans whole diabetic career.

If your nurse seems unhappy with her job... that should tell you something. If your nurse seems wholistic in her cares for your child... that should also tell you something.

I once fired a doctor I was going to, (you heard me, I fired her... you see... without you, THere is no job.. nobody to doctor. YOU have the right to go to as many doctors as you want until you feel like you are at the right one.)

I fired her because I could hear her throwing a fit from the waiting room. I could hear her yelling obsceneties at her nurses.

I wont contribute a dime to a person like that.
So I left, and I told her nurses why.

I dont imagine whe ever got the message, but at least I stpopped supporting someone like that.

Representin'

The new webiste is
www.sacwd.org
give it a looksee.

pictures

Living out of a box

I have heard the term before, people say it when they move... "we have been living out of boxes for weeks until the furniture arrives" and such.
But I realized yesterday that some of us actually DO live out of a box, in a different way.
The mail man had come and gone, the dog had his barking fit that lets us know that the mail will soon be here, and after the mailman leaves the neighborhood, he calms down.
But yesterday, as he does sometimes, that dog started in again later, and barked like a freak until I almost wrestled him to the ground.
Then I heard something ruffle by the front door, The kids looked out the window, "THE U.P.S GUY!!!"
We never got a delivery when I was a kid. My parents would never have paid shipping costs for anything.
Once, when I was maybe nine, my aunt and uncle sent me a birthday present in the mail. It was a miss piggy doll, and I was really, really confused about that. They had never sent me a birthday card or anything before, and never acknowledged my birthday ever since. It made me feel funny. I..... I really didnt like miss piggy.
But the with Ebay, and Amazon.com, and all of the other ways you can get goodies over the internet, my kids know the U.P.S. guy by name.
But, yesterday it was a 12in cubed package. That meant only one thing.
And it is always much more fun to open than miss piggy.
Diabetic supplies.
I am always excited to see if the insulin is actually cool, or if it burns my hand... I always inspect and count the infusion sets, and the lancet devices, and the test strip vials, check to see if they all have the same code, so I know if we are going to be able to go a month without recalibrating, (when it works out that way, I always whisper a loud, "YESSSS!" and even my youngest son will hear me and say, "oh are the test strips all the same number again?")
Sometimes I get a surprise, like IV 3000, or more alchol swabs than you can shake a stick at. (like we really use that many ever) and infusion pump syringes... all sorts of goodies.
It is pretty fun. Getting all of the medical supplies, as, I think that people who deal with medical conditions become sort of conissuers of supplies.
But as I fold the box tops back together and set it aside, because we have to get going soon... I think about it.
In this box is everything my son needs to stay alive for one more month.
What if they stopped sending it? What if his insulin was not available? What if the FDA did a recall on insulin, or pumps, or both?
These things.... This box of supplies that I am so happy to open every month is only life support.
And somewhere out there in this world, there is a kid who can't get the supplies he needs, or his insulin is rationed. There is no package, there is no pump, no alcohol swabs to clean his skin so that when he uses an old, dull syringe to inject his insulin, he pushes infectious bacteria into his skin... perpetuating the disease.
Somewhere, there is s kid with no test strips... and no faith that he will have what he needs the next month, let alone the next day.
Puts things into perspective for me, as I carefully put the box aside, and put my arm around my son, and realize that he is one of the "lucky" ones.
And I say a little prayer to all that is good that he stays that way.

Guessing game

I GUESS I started a little controversy with the advocating blog. I am getting a little annoyed by posts telling me NOT to be angry about my sons treatment at a program he attended... And is has become all about religion to this lady.
All I want to do is blog about Diabetes, because, I like to read from other D people, and get feedback, and advice. This is supposed to be a place where I feel like I am understood.
I guess there will always be some folks that take offense to something.
Many thanks to Denise and Angela, for their eloquent ways of pusing to point to places that I, for emotional reasons and not able to put it.
Love to all,
and to my D friends, Good luck, Good numbers.