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The Party's Over
The party’s over.
The cops have come and they told all of us to go home. Stephanie Miller is in deep shit. Last time I saw Scott Fisk, he was sleeping in his own vomit on Stephanie Miller’s kitchen floor. Her dachshund was lapping it up. Disgusting! Hopefully we’ll reconvene at Walker’s house. His mom is on an Alaskan cruise with her boyfriend Tom and she has a full bar in their basement.
So, hopefully the party will continue. But for now, it’s over.
When Charlie decided he was done wearing the Dexcom sensor, he was REALLY done. It was day number 10 and he apparently had had enough. He couldn’t peel it off the back of his arm fast enough.
“Dad!” he said. “I want it off! ”
This was our first Dexcom run and without trying to sound overly dramatic, I kinda found the thing life changing. I know we were approaching the end of the sensor’s life cycle, but I was hoping to squeeze a few more days out of it.
“I miss it,” I told Susanne.
“Carey, it’s been two minutes!”
“I know. But I miss it.”
How sad the impotent Dexcom receiver looked on the kitchen counter. Lonely and untouched and regular-looking; reduced to nothing more than a distant ancestor of the television remote.
I picked it up just to get the feel of it in my palm. Then placed it back down.
“I miss it,” I said again.
Even though it had only been 10 nights with the Dexcom and we had gone hundreds of nights without it, I felt a great uneasiness that first night. Fear of the unknown. Xenophobia. The unsettling mystery of my son’s overnight blood sugars came back. Just like that. On some mornings, during the 10 days, I would wake with the Dexcom receiver still clutched in my hand underneath my pillow; my teddy bear.
Heavenly little glances throughout the night to make sure all was OK.
On this first night, Dexcom wasn’t there to let me know that Charlie’s blood sugar was creeping up into the high 100s at about 3 am. As a result, he woke up over 200.
“See?!? This is why we need the Dexcom!”
But I no longer had to convince Susanne like I felt I had to with the previous CGM. She was completely down with Dexcom’s awesomeness and our need to have it in our lives as much as possible.
Charlie, however …
Charlie was another story. It’s what I was afraid of. Once we took it off and the odd thrill passed, how would I get him to go for it on a continuous basis? How would I break it to him that this was not a one-time proposition?
Last night was a disaster from the start. He wanted nothing to do with it. He called it stupid. Evaporated into nothingness was his excitement about its range and the fun he had with measuring tape. He agreed to the arm again but only with numbing cream. When it was time, he got upset and changed course, asking to put it on his butt. Stalling tactics. We’ve seen it many times before. He stopped me again when he thought the direction of the sensor was wrong. I eventually plunged the sucker and we got a nasty bleeder. It sucked. We peeled it off and called it a day. A bad day.
Is it so much to ask to have a son who likes having a miniature javelin shoved violently into his arm??? Am I asking too much to have an 11-year-old who enjoys having a plastic device stapled to his arm and worn for two weeks and who appreciates the sensation of having wires dangling in his interstitial fluid??? WHY DON’T YOU LIKE THIS?!?
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)