In Search of Simple

A few years ago, I used a serving spoon instead of measuring cups to plate dinner. If I looked at a nutrition label, it was with passing interest. I left the house with nothing but keys, wallet, and phone.

Now, leaving the house requires a search and preparation of the d-bag, making sure it contains glucagon, meter, glucose tabs, enough test strips, lancet, CGM receiver, checking my purse for back up rescue sugar, and glancing at a blood sugar. I’m the lady blocking the grocery store aisle, squinting at nutrition labels. I weigh and portion Henry’s lunch, and include the carb counts in a note for the school nurse. Twenty minutes before eating, (you know that really calm time right before dinner when the kids are ravenous and you’re trying to cook and answer homework questions at the same time) I have to know how much and what Henry will eat, count the carbs, check his blood sugar and give insulin. When shopping, I have to pick out clothes that will accommodate the medical gear he wears. The list goes on…

Having diabetes takes away many simplicities I once took for granted, like packing a school lunch. During a particularly harried morning, I remembered the Leaf  & Love Lemonades that I won from their Instagram giveaway. I threw one in his lunchbox and a wave of simple joy washed over me. It reminded of life before diabetes, when I could just hand my son food without solving complex math equations or worrying about the effect it would have on his immediate and long term health.

This d-life is hard, but it certainly allows for celebration of the simple, like an in range blood sugar or an awesome lunch.


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2017 Resolutions

As Henry delighted in putting together his 734 piece “expert level” winter train Lego set, we had to interrupt him and test for lows multiple times. He hung out in the 60s and 70s no matter how many glucose tabs and airheads we threw at the lows.

In fact, it wasn’t until my husband asked, “Do you think the Legos are making him low?” that I put two and two together. I remembered that about six months ago Henry worked most of the morning on a complex Lego set and he remained low most of the time. Then I recalled reading about 504’s, and many parents explained that the mental energy of standardized tests often drove their children low, likening complex mental activities to a kind of sugar-guzzling exercise.

While I don’t make specific resolutions at the start of the year, I do believe in rededicating and refocusing attention and efforts periodically.

While Henry happily put his Lego set together in a state of mild hypoglycemia, I resolved to pay attention, not only to how food and activities affect his blood sugar, but to how our law makers handle healthcare.

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In a few days, a new administration will take office, and one of the first items that will be considered is the repeal of the Affordable Care Act (ACA). I’m not sure how health and healing, particularly the health of children, got political, but it is, and it shouldn’t be. I’m not a Pollyanna, I understand it’s really about money; a few phone calls to an insurance company to discuss $1.40 test strips makes this very clear.

I understand that the ACA is not perfect. Thankfully, we have private insurance, and since the ACA passed a few years ago, our premiums and co-pays have increased. We pay more for our coverage, which appears to be increasingly less. However, it means that people like Henry, who came into the world with a quarter of a million dollar hospital bill for a stay in the NICU, who was diagnosed with a costly, chronic disease at three-years-old can never have a lifetime maximum. He cannot be refused for a preexisting condition, and he can stay on our insurance until he’s 26. But more importantly, the ACA provides access to health care for people who are not able to be a part of the privatized market. Imagine guessing at your blood sugar because you could only afford a test strip a day or rationing your insulin and choosing not to eat or not give insulin because you couldn’t afford it.

This morning, when the governor of my state called for a “move to one comprehensive statewide health care contract for public employees,” I was paying attention. When my House Representative was re-elected, I wrote a letter and explained the role of the ACA for people who live with a lifelong condition. I urged him to support medicare coverage of a continuous glucose monitor, and thanked him for signing the letter for the Special Diabetes Program.

In 2017, I’m paying attention. Here’s how to contact your lawmakers. Tell them what’s important to you. Make them pay attention.