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Things continue to be hither and thither — hence my struggle to post! Apologies. What always then happens of course is an overwhelming urge to say EVERYTHING.
Not possible. So a quick run through: we think Cleo the cat is with kitten! Her brother is able to tolerate her, phew. We had a party for 30 people last week, and the sun managed to shine throughout! Phew. I’ve taught some year 6 (11 yr old) and today year 5 (10 yr old) school children poetry these last few days too. Really excellent fun. Phew! I delivered a paper to the Poetry and Voice conference at University of Chichester over the weekend. On how different sorts of writing have served different purposes since my son’s diagnosis — and on how the beach hut poems came about. Went well I think, and the whole conference was a stimulating one. Phew!
Not so phew: daughter M, six weeks after cracking her cocyxx in a rounders match (seriously painful, missed two days of school), then jammed her ring finger on her, yes, fingering hand…. So has had to re-schedule her violin exam. Oh dear. Very painful, swollen joint. Little delicate hands. Sniff!
Not so phew too: battles with lows. The heat seems to have had the generalised effect of lowering E’s insulin needs, so last week we had several evenings of unfortunately several hours of dragging around in the 3′s and 4′s… Even with the pump on 0%, eg actually off. It was extraordinarily wearing for him, and a I don’t mind admitting that one night it was a little scary: no insulin going in, already treated two hypos, and gee, 15 minutes later he’s still on 2.5mmols... Disconcerting. But we got up I think half a dozen times that night, and by morning he was okay.
Sigh. Then after 3 nights of going high from too low a temp basal (too little insulin) in the day — we think we’ve sort of cracked it. For now! 90% temp basal in the day, plus 90% of the usual carb counting/ratios. Turn off temp in early evening to stabilise for the night. Unless he’s exercised of course…! In which case turn it to 95%.
Assuming he remembers that he’s exercised.
Assuming that we remember what he’s told us. And that we all don’t crash out on the sofa from SHEER EXHAUSTION while watching the World Cup, where England did SO BADLY. Oh dear.
Did I mention that on the way back from Chichester the car sprung a diesel leak and I ran out of fuel while passing a truck? Scary.
And had to wait on the motorway verge 10 miles from home. Never, ever nice, traffic whipping past at 80mph. I took my linen trousers and sparkly flip flops into the nettles and thorns, up the bank, I can tell you!
And did I mention that because one car is in the shop I did all the driving this morning: child to school, OH to work. And oh, deliver a testing kit to the OTHER child across town, because accidentally forgotten….?!
But we’re here. And we’re okay. As long as we keep our juggling hands free.
After barely three days’ respite, little girl cat Cleo is on heat — AGAIN. We are gritting our teeth. She is doing something altogether different, but no doubt just as taxing. About another two weeks of this, all being well. We hope for another little mini-break for her. Then maybe making babies. And everyone will be happier… there is too much hissing in the house now, and not just from her brother Schubert, who is fed up to the eye teeth with all her moaning and constant IN YOUR FACE – ness. We keep putting her in the bathroom with a litter tray, food, drink and a bed. Her boudoir, in which she can recline. Fat chance.
AND: a day when E has helped me make a postcard for my hut poems. Okay, he’s done the whole thing (:-)). And here it is, the front image, and the back poem. Splendid job.
(Sorry, on my computer you need to click once to go to some page in space that says ‘Hut postcard’, then click on that and then it finally downloads. Why? Who knows.)
So we go for a milkshake from the dreaded McD’s. Very unusual. Get a medium milkshake. Read the carb content from the handy placemat. Hurray, McD! Says 70g CHO. Sheesh! We think: a load of carb. Sounds TOO high. Settle on 55g CHO, and agree to pick up the pieces later if he goes sky-high. Two hours later he’s a steady 5.8mmols… Hmm… And still hasn’t gone higher.
So we wonder: Mr McD, what you playin’ at?! If we’d done the full 70g, it would have been hypo city! Oh dear.
Just another day in the land of managing diabetes. And life. And getting through both. For the moment!
But we don’t. After thinking the high numbers of the last post were set probs etc, here we are on the third day since the last change and ALL IS WELL. A relief. Stable ish numbers. A night’s sleep….
And lovely Cleo has passed the worst of being on heat. After two nights locked in the bathroom she’s to all of our great reliefs a bit more settled. Phew! No more earplugs, and a bit happier a cat….
Finally, exams: I phoned the school and they suggested 10% extra time to account for E’s lack of concentration. Which he has done.
It’s good to get in the habit of being obvious and up front about all this: hypo or hyper, he can lose at least 15 mins of a test to treating it. Now, he’s a VERY bright boy. He would do ok no matter what. We know this. The school know this.
But he never complains. He gets on with things. He thrives and excels. So when he says he thinks his performance is affected by his diabetes, the school listens. They want to set up similar formal provisions for him for GCSEs. Just to give him the best of all possible worlds.
They believe in him and trust him. I was quite choked up on the phone, hearing how much they thought of him. In his RS public exam the next day (part of a GCSE) his numbers were fine. But arrangements had been made for him to sit close to the door. All of the invigilators knew the situation. He came home saying he felt so much better now that nothing was unknown. Before he had gone into every exam explaining…. Uncomplaining and necessary, but hard work I’m guessing before an exam.
Anyway. For the first time I feel, tentatively, that the school is beginning to understand….
***
Morning at the hut.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Just a teaser really. Here is ‘my’ beach hut. And its views.
It’s staggering. I’ve already written a poem in it/on its steps. Even with the windows being broken. I went for a walk. I found the loos. I found the cafe that doesn’t know it’s a retro 50s diner. I listened to the sea gulls. Seriously, I did.
And here’s the thing: I get to go back tomorrow!
I’ll come back to dodgy sets and other bits of news tomorrow. Not great news, truth be told, so we’ll call those waves to be jumped later… For now it’s all about those glorious moments of surfacing.
Little Blue Hut from the back
View from the steps!
Yes this is the actual view
1) M’s school did speak to the two year groups as promised. M reports it was handled well: an analogy with a key was used apparently, such that the key is the workings of the pancreas. In type 2 the key is a bit broken, not working so well, but a bit. In type 1 there is no key. Somehow this was used to illustrate how the types of diabetes were completely different, and most especially that type 1 is not something you can catch, or something that is the person’s fault, or anything. M did not feel on the spot. And the ‘friends’ who had teased her just the day before said nothing, even though she was sitting next to one.
It’s interesting, isn’t it, how quiet a bully goes when shown to be wrong?
So all in all, satisfactory outcome! M is infinitely happier now that the ‘truth is out’, and we’re pleased with the school, will write a note saying so.
2) We have yet to try the Bayer Contour USB. Things have been too frantic. We need a bit of head space. And E is, as I’ve said, always slightly resistant to another unfamiliar thing when he’s full swing into his life. And who can blame him? May well be Easter break now….
3) E received a Distinction for his Grade 7 piano exam! Dig it. Barely 14 years old. Absolutely brilliant news.
4) M won a poetry reading competition on the same day. The girl understands it.
5) And I have been given a mini-residency at the Little Blue Hut on Tankerton beach. In which I will sit and write, and walk and think, for three days a week over six weeks, starting 21 April! I am so excited about this I could pop, seriously…It seems so out of reach at the moment to be able to do anything like that — but hey, it will happen. I will finish teaching next week, take a break during which I do my marking, and return to write. To write! To think! To just BE. Incredible. Watch this space.
