When I got home from work, R had just gotten up from his nap and wanted his afternoon snack. Q had already had a snack but was still hungry. I washed and weighed a big bowl of strawberries for her. R wanted some Newman’s Own Organics Alphabet Cookies.*
He was naming the letters as he ate each cookie. When he said “B,” I replied “‘B’ is for ‘ball'” as I walked toward Q with the PDM to give her insulin for 9 grams of carbs.
She said, “And ‘B‘ is for ‘bolus‘ like you are about to give me.”
The ABC’s of Diabetes
A is for “A1C,” or as I like to call it, “judgment day.”
B is for “butt,” or the site that does not work well for her OmniPod because she accidentally knocks it off every time we try to put it there.
C is for “cake,” or “Yes, she can have cake at this birthday party.”
D is for “diabetic,” I say own it.
E is for “everything but the kitchen sink,” in other words all the supplies that we carry with us everywhere we go.
F is for “fish crackers,” or something Q never wants to eat again but for some reason parents always send in for school snack in gigantic cartons. Me, I like to arrange with the teacher to bring in frozen yogurt tubes.
G is for “good number,” or as Q calls it “three numbers that start with a 1.” Though we all know we aren’t supposed to define blood sugars as good or bad, but let’s face it, any number that’s in range is good.
H for “huge ass bolus,” or HAB as I abbreviate it on Twitter.
I for “ice cream,” or “yes, she can have both cake and ice cream.” (See C above.)
J is for “juggle,” because I feel like I always have three balls in the air.
K is for “blood ketone test strips,” or as I like to call them “Ouch, there goes another buck.”
L is for “laughter,” because at the end of the day sometimes all you can do is sit back and laugh.
M is for “mother’s intuition,” something you should always trust.
N is for “no,” something we have to tell our diabetic children more times than we would like to.
O is for “overnight,” or the dreaded overnight basal testing.
P is for “protect,” I wish I could protect her, particularly from insensitive parents who bring gigantic cupcakes to school on their child’s birthday when they know snacks are supposed to be 10-15 grams of carbs because the school nurse is not there at snack time to give her a bolus. But that’s okay because it doesn’t affect them or their child.
Q is for “Super Q,” my favorite super hero.
R is for “rant,” something that I have to do once in a while just to stay sane.
S is for “Skittles” and “Smarties,” two items in our arsenal of quick acting glucose sources to bring her up quickly from a low.
T is for “time to make the donuts,” I mean, time to get up and check on her again and probably not fall back asleep until right before it’s time to get up in the morning. Thankfully this doesn’t happen every night.
U is for “Ugh,” what I exclaim when numbers are wonky for absolutely. no. reason.
W is for “water,” which has zero carbs don’t you know. But Q also likes drinking fruit pouches with only two carbs.
X is for “X-ray fish.” Huh? (Life isn’t all about diabetes.)
Y is for “yo-yo effect,” or what happens when you over treat a low, go too high, give a big bolus, and end up right back where you started.
Z is for “ZZZ,” something I don’t get enough of!