An Unexpected Anniversary

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An Unexpected Anniversary

October 30, 2000 I am in the kitchen baking up Halloween treats for the kids Halloween parties at school. I loved these moments. The excitement, the energy, the creativity. Halloween was so much fun.

But…that day transitioned into a life I never thought I would ever entertain on October 31, 2000. That was the day I learned I would become the parent of a child with Type 1 diabetes.

On the morning of October 31st I got the kids ready for school. I packed the plastic containers with Halloween baked goods & saw them on the bus.

That afternoon as the kids unloaded off the bus & I walked them in the door asking how their day went & how their Halloween parties went, Kurtis say’s the words a parent does not want to hear.

“I didn’t eat any treats today because I felt sick to my tummy & drank & peed all day.”

I felt the energy drain out of my body. I didn’t even have to test him. I knew.

I asked Kurtis if Mommy could poke his finger like Mommy does to test her sugar. He flat out refused. I was on my own so did not have the help of another adult to convince him otherwise. Luckily I happen to still have Keto-Diastix in the bathroom. After I dipped & confirmed what I already knew with 4+ sugar & negative ketones, I placed the call to my GP’s office. He reassured me that based on the fact he had no ketones, take him out for Halloween as usual but don’t allow him to eat any treats loaded with sugar & bring him in first thing in the morning. At that point we would begin the transition to insulin with education to be a parent of a child with Type 1 & subsequently living with it.

Initially, the next 2 nights were the hardest. Halloween involved me trying to portray it was a normal night out with the kids trick or treating. With the exception that my 7 year old baby had just learned he had diabetes like his Mom. He would have to take needles & poke his fingers & have low blood sugars that didn’t look nice. As we walked up the road, from house to house, Kurtis would throw himself on the side of the road belly first & wail “I don’t want diabetes” or “I hate diabetes.”. I would leave him briefly then say as I tried not to cry “Okay Buddy, l know it sucks. Let’s go to the next house & trick or treat.” I honestly didn’t know how else to be. I knew he had to grieve even though it was about something he didn’t quite understand in it’s entirety but knew starting tomorrow he would begin to learn the essence of what living with diabetes was about. He only understood the external ‘bad’ things with diabetes….severe lows, needles & finger pokes. He didn’t yet understand the other side….how he’d feel being low, high, going to the Dr’s the next day to have blood drawn or the complexity of counting carbs, the demand it would have on his body & mind 24-7-365 & the ridicule he would receive at school for years to come.

The next day was emotionally distressing for both of us. I was the only parent present. His father refused to come home from out of town to support this critical event or his family.

While Cayla went to school, Kurtis & I made our way to the GP’s office. After a lot of coercion we finally tested Kurtis’ sugar by finger poke to determine his fasting sugar was 13.5 mmol/L. I blamed myself. I felt guilty. What have I done to my child?

The GP called the Paediatrician’s office & the hospital to arrange an appointment at the Adult Diabetes Clinic as there was no Paediatric clinic at that time.

We knew the Paediatrician from 6 years prior when Kurtis had an anaphylactic reaction to Benadryl & severely ill with chicken pox in which he almost died at the age of 1. We chatted briefly & said to me…”Mom, you have Type 1 & you’re a nurse, you know what to do. I’d rather not put him in the hospital so here’s the prescription for the insulin.” He gave me the dose to give him & sent me off to the hospital to learn how to carb count.

Once at the hospital I sat with the dietician as she taught me how to carb count. The entire visit Kurtis had marker in hand. Standing in front of a flip chart he wrote time & time again in big 7 year old letters “I HATE DIABETES” “I HATE DIABETES” “I HATE DIABETES”. It hurt so much to watch but I knew it was good for him to get it out. Me? I was on robot mode. Survival. Take it in. Learn it. Function. Sacrifice emotion for taking good care of my baby. Helping him through this time so that he accepted & transitioned into such a terrible diagnosis.

Once home, I explained to Cayla what had happened during that day. She was 9 & a mature 9. She grasped it fairly easily & knew she had to step back & let me care for Kurtis for a little while. Closing into supper time I explained to Kurtis that just like Mommy he will test his blood & take a needle. That’s where it didn’t go so well. Testing his sugar was a bit of challenge but doable. He tested at 32 mmol/L. I explained to him that he really needed his insulin to bring his sugar down as I didn’t want to have to take him to the hospital & have someone else do it. He didn’t care. He just didn’t want the needle.

After about an hour of trying to convince him, going into another room & having a little cry on my own, I called my Mom. Knowing she had been through worse then me with my diagnosis, I asked for her help. When Mom arrived my head was spinning, Kurtis was crying & Cayla was trying to keep the calm in a whirlwind of frenzy. I was also angry because his father wasn’t present in a time we all needed him.

In my mind I can still see Kurtis sitting on the kitchen chair on an angle from the table explaining to me in tears how he doesn’t want the needle & his rationale as to why he doesn’t need it. His eyes swollen with tears pleaded to me & it broke my heart. Thankfully my Mom had already been through the heartache of my diagnosis at age 5. She had raised a child with Type 1.

In her calm, she finally convinced Kurtis to let me inject in his arm.

After I got the kids settled to bed, I cried & cried. I felt it was my fault. I caused this.

How did I move forward? My Mom asked me a question that changed my attitude which helped me transition to a Mom accepting she has a child with Type 1 diabetes. “Would you have had him if you knew he would get Type 1?”

No regrets. It sucks but attitude & the choice to transition to a new life is essential to living life with Diabetes Beyond Borders. This year is another Diabeteversary. October 31, 2013 Kurtis has lived with Type 1 for 13 years. The transition continues.

Change or Transition?

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Change or Transition?

The words spill across the physicians desk or the hospital bed “You have diabetes.” or harder yet “Your child has diabetes.” Your head spins trying to absorb what that means. Depending on what your knowledge or experiences are, thoughts, emotions and response after this moment can vary dramatically. What you do know is that from that moment on your life has changed forever. Forever. Changed. Where do you go from here?

At this point I challenge you to substitute the word change for transition. Change is defined as an act or process through which something becomes different. Yes, this is true when receiving the diagnosis of diabetes. Something has become different. Transition is defined as the process or a period of changing from one state or condition to another. Do you see the difference between change and transition?

The picture you see is of the Peterborough Liftlock. It was recently taken on a beautiful Fall day on one of our weekend walks. Wikipedia provides a great summary of the greatness of this world renown landmark.

“The Peterborough Lift Lock is a boat lift located on the Trent Canal in the city of Peterborough, Ontario, Canada, and is Lock 21 on the Trent-Severn Waterway.
The dual lifts are the highest hydraulic boat lifts in the world, with a lift of 19.8 m (65 ft). This was a considerable accomplishment at the time when conventional locks usually only had a 2 m (7 ft) rise. It is not the highest boat lift of any type in the world today: the lift at Strépy-Thieu in Belgium has a greater capacity (1,350 tonnes) and height difference (73.15 m)…Many local residents of Peterborough skate on the canal below the lift lock in the winter.
The Peterborough Lift Lock was designated a National Historic Site of Canada in 1979,[1][2] and was named an Historic Mechanical Engineering Landmark by the American Society of Mechanical Engineers in 1987.[3]”

Picture yourself sitting in a boat on the canal at the top of this lock. You will have to trust me at this point but the view from the top is amazing. Add the transition of colour on the leaves on the trees. It is breathtaking. I say the leaves are transitioning because we know that eventually those leaves will fall off and the tree will become bare. The tree is on a journey with an evolving objective. At this point it’s goal is to shed its existing facade so it can rest for the winter to produce buds and beautiful bright green leaves in the Spring.

Back to the locks…It is understood when you approach the lock that eventually you will transition to the water below and your journey will continue on. Whether you have a plan as to where you to go from that point can amplify the quality of the experience when you arrive at the bottom of the lock. Most would agree that a plan needs to be made in order for the next phase of the journey to be enjoyable and memorable. Without a plan to transition to the next location, all could be lost stressing out on what to do next rather then taking pleasure in the journey.

To be successful living with diabetes one must not be satisfied with just accepting change but beginning the transition to living a life in a different state. There are many steps to achieving this, a plan is essential. If these steps are taken and transition is accepted, not just the understanding and acceptance of change, you can live a full and productive life with diabetes. I encourage you to always plan and be secure in your journey knowing you are transitioning to the next destination in your life with diabetes.

A Rural Girl Falling in Love with the City

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A Rural Girl Falling in Love with the City

I had lived in the country since the day I took my first breath. After a 6 month stint living in the city in 2009, the kids & I moved back to the country. In 2011, I decided that it was best for me to live in the city again.

It has been quite a transition.

When I first considered moving to the city I was working more than full time hours in pharmaceutical sales & running two kids around before & after school for activities, friends, sports & jobs.

My rationale in moving to the city was less drive time, more family time, more me time. By living there, potentially, I would save at least 30 minutes a day driving one trip into town, one way. There were many days in a week, I was driving into town at least 2 or 3 times. That did not include the 70,000 kilometres in a year I drove with my career. Less drive time meant more time at home, more time to do the things I love to do, less time sitting stationary in a vehicle. This would enable me to create more time to commit to the small details in life I missed allowing me to decrease my stress level. More time off the road also meant I could focus on looking after me. As with most mom’s, wives & women with demanding careers, I was last on the list of people I took care of.

I had a dilemma. I had enjoyed living in the country. I love the space, the peacefulness, seeing the stars in the sky, listening to the coyotes cry at night, the loons call on the lake, the tree frogs singing in the Spring. When I wanted to de-stress, move and ‘get lost’ in nothing, I would put on my running gear, hook up my iPod, put my sugar tablets in my pocket & run. The scenery was plentiful, the running routes endless.

My naivety of living in the city prevented me from understanding the unique benefits it entailed.

Over the past 2 years of being an urban dweller, I am now coming to an understanding of how great it is. My love is growing more than I imagined.

In purchasing our two homes, the ‘must have’ was that it was to be near downtown. We love to go out for dinner. Peterborough’s Downtown dining district is unique with a wide variety of gastronomic options, social and dining experiences. We wanted to be in the heart of the city. The home we live in now is a 20 minute walk downtown, 30 minute walk to the North end. The major mall in our city, although at the other end of where we live is a 40 minute walk. There isn’t really anywhere in the city that we can’t walk to. With backpack on, I am feel like I am making a difference in many ways. The fun part is that there is no one way to get to a destination. There are trails, side roads, main roads, parking lots.

This is the city I have known since I was born, but now that I am walking it I see, I didn’t really know it.

There are days I don’t get in my car. If I need a few groceries, I put on my back pack and walk to the grocery or bulk food store. This serves many purposes; economically, socially, environmentally & most importantly, my holistic health with regards to my diabetes and well being.

The days I need to drive for my business, I now find it enjoyable, cranking up the tunes & thinking about nothing but I also find it extremely exhausting. I reflect back on how I did the miles I did over 7 years, day in and day out.

Although both driving and walking long distances leave me feeling tired, I now notice that there are different feelings of tired. In recognizing these differences, I’d rather feel tired from a walk around town then a drive to Toronto and back.

I am most excited now as we build another new business. This new business entails a store which my Samoyed Husky “Samson” and I will walk 30 minutes each day to ‘work’ and back.

Life is simpler and less stressful. This country girl is converted.