Time to update and revamp and overhaul...
The blog that is.
Lately weve been revising things in our personal life too, throwing out, sorting, packing into boxes.
Maybe Im grasping at straws, mistaking the sense that if Im in possession of an organised pantry, wardrobe or linen cupboard, that somehow Im in control of diabetes. Having the salt besides the pepper, and the quinoa with the polenta matters - and soothes. Its strokes me and holds me after treating a 1.9 that leaves me shaken and agitated. It somehow makes up for the 24.8 that registers on the meter...and therefore nullifies my inadequacy as a pancreas. Matching shoes lined up take the sting out of the thought of future diabetic complications. You get the gist. And you also know its bullcrap and artificial.
Maybe the idea that if I plaster on some make up everything is ok with me? If I just get enough concealer on my eyes it wont show that I havent slept in 17months since diagnosis. If only I sacrifice enough for my kids, I can somehow win back the normal healthy child that I mourn.
Its a pretty heavy load to carry.
My husband is my best helper and yet, he doesnt manage Reubens pancreas like it was his own. Lets just say, Reubs is Chief Executive Officer, Im Regional Manager, and hubby is Assistant to the Regional Manager (Thankyou Dwight Schrute). He can drop off for an arvo snooze without as much as a moments thought because why wouldnt he... he knows someone else is ALWAYS awake caring for Reuben. (That would be me). Me, I cant nap knowing Reubens got active climbing insulin on board, maybe didnt eat the right type and quantitiy of carbs, heck I cant even sleep if Ive treated a low or dosed for a high, until I see it through. Every night I make sure to stay awake long enough so that theres only 4 hours between my bedtime and hubbys morning alarm.
My fuse is short. Not going to pretend on that one, the anger is definately there still. The most sensible thing I can do is stay out of situations that make me want to rip someones head off.
I cancelled one of my daughters activities in a moment of fury. Honestly, I dont need to pay someone to yell at my kids. As well as anger, Im overwhelmed. Mostly its all just too much. Like stuffing a bag full of items, and knowing full well there isnt enough room, the bag stretches and splits and its innards spill out. Thats me, and my bloody emotional entrails. I dont like it, but there it is. Im an honest person.
I dont have the fortitude to listen to someone tell me I gave my son diabetes because of gestational diabetes (which I did not have, thankyou very much).There isnt actually any link between gestational and type 1 anyway - so shut your ignorant ass up. I hate it when people tell us dont worry, my son will get better as he gets older. That he can take tablets one day, that he will grow out of it. That perhaps the doctors are wrong. Okay okay. Chia seeds, honey and cinnamon may help, but they wont CURE F*CKING DIABETES.
I hope my sister doesnt mind me sharing, but this was written to me this week after my most recent 'episode' an hour and a half sobbing to her sympathetic ear...
"...least I can try to be there for you emotionally. Dont let that f*cker D kick your ass. You are too good and as you learn to be a better pancreas for Reubs it wont have as much power over you. You are phenomenal and your strength really does inspire me!. Love you lots x."
She said another profound thing to me, that I put so much pressure on myself. Perhaps its an illusion that everyone else has got it all together and manages fabulous control and I beat myself with it. I definately dont like the feeling of not being good at stuff and Diabetes is so changeable and a beast to learn to manage and add to that the nature of the toddler.
Undoubtedly this is THE most challenging and testing thing Ive ever had to do. Will I ever feel like I'm coping?
Great news, my Mummy is here to stay awhile, and we are going to the craft show together. Apparently arm knitting and crochet and recycled fashion sewing is popular this year (thank goodness, I dont think I could enjoy another year of buttons and paper tole!)