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I wish he didnt love food so much. I wonder if it would be different if he wasnt raised with so many food restrictions and limitations. I wonder if we created this monster. This monster that if given the green light would eat a whole penguin in one sitting if it was fried and could be dipped in some sort of sauce.
Carbs are everywhere and its a constant challenge. I took the three kids to a pizza place last night for dinner. Despite the fact that I will order Charlie something other than pizza, there is uneasiness in the air. The restaurant is like a haunted house and Im waiting for something scary to jump out at me. I wish it wasnt so, but Im sort of on edge the whole time because Im afraid of the effect on Charlies blood sugar.
The feeling that something very bad will happen just hangs there like a black cloud until, well, midnight, when I decided we were going to be OK.
I split a cheesesteak with Charlie. Its very hard not to give him at least a bit of pizza since I ordered some for Ben and the aroma is intoxicating. I give Charlie a half of a slice. Its not much pizza but it worries me nonetheless. The cheesesteak and the sliver of pizza is plenty of food, but of course Charlie always wants more.
When Maeves stromboli arrives, I think I actually saw sunbeams shine upon it from the heavens. Charlies jaw dropped. The thing had the circumference of an Eskimo snowshoe. Charlie salivates and much to my horror tells me that next time, hes ordering one of those. He then watches me like a dog at the dinner table as I cut up the stromboli into small piecesfor Maeve. I can feel Charlie watching me, hoping that I will give him some scraps.
I give Charlie a small piece and he dips it into a steaming bowl of tomato sauce. He moans with pleasure as it goes down his gullet. He takes a spoonful of sauce and then goes back for more when I stop him.
Charlie, youre killing me. You had enough food.
I wish I wasnt diabetic, he says.
This is a first. The first time I think Ive ever heard him call it something that he is rather than something that he has. A diabetic.
I tell him that he ate enough and that it had nothing to do with diabetes.
But hes not stupid. He can smell a lie when he sees one. Smells like fried penguin.
Megan was diagnosed in 2009 with Type I. As an RN, she was familiar with the medical side of her diagnosis; learning to be a good patient on the other hand, was and continues to be the challenge of her day to day life. (Read More)