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Okay, so I changed the evening ratio and the first night it was a DREAM. 6.1 mmols at bed, 4.8 mmols upon waking. Sigh of satisfied (and slightly smug) relief.
Things trot along fine yesterday, then, huh, too high before dinner, 11 mmols. End of dual wave pasta from lunch. E comments that it’s too high even for the end of a dual wave and that he thinks the changed dinner ratio will just make things worse. He wants to override the pump and give more insulin.
I resist. More than one day testing is our motto, and we just can’t tell how things are going to go.
So he was right (again). At bed he is 16 mmols. ARGH. Correct and test another hour later. 14 mmols. The pump will not correct again… and this morning he’s still too high, 10 mmols. Another argh. We correct, and when he gets up for breakfast, he’s fine, 7.3 mmols.
Then he forgets to take insulin for breakfast (SO easy to do). Which of course we don’t realise until testing for lunch, three hours later. When he discovers he’s 18 mmols. Triple that argh. We correct and put him on 200% (basal/background insulin). He’s massively apologetic, cross at himself. We also make the decision that he’s going to eat with us rather than put his food in the oven where it will become even crispier than it already is (remember, I’m ‘cooking’). This of course means that him coming down will take MUCH longer… more food going in means more for the body to deal with…
He does comfort himself/me though by mentioning that at least he won’t get ketones, because there is a LOAD of insulin running around his body by now…
Nothing like searching for the half full bit of the glass! Bless him.
It is stupidly easy to forget to bolus for a meal or snack. Reason being: when weighing, measuring, calculating become second nature, then it’s just a momentary lapse that results in skipping the final step — and because it’s such force of habit doing all this, you don’t even remember you’ve forgotten, if that makes sense. Until you stumble across it.
So now it’s three hours and three blood tests later and he’s 12 mmols. On the way down.
The next unknown will be dinner and its ratio: what will happen tonight?!
***
R home tomorrow. I confess I’m now getting a bit tired, hazy with what needs doing. Along with all of the usual kid organising, shopping, meals, laundry, my work (what work?!), cats, guinea pigs, homework etc, there is as ever all the diabetes kit to keep track of: managed to order and go pick up strips and lancets four days later…only the manufacturer seems to be having problems with the strips and they are nowhere to be found…Hmmm…So I have to remember (again, and maybe even again if they don’t have them) to phone or go in and track down the strips. (And prepare the ground with E in case the chemist doesn’t get them in: we have a supply of sorts for another sort of meter, but old habits really do die hard.) Also managed to check insulin supplies — today — and find that we only have one vial left. So ordered those too. And ordered glugogel, because although we’ve never used it, I suspect that having some in-date is a good idea! We are lucky to have a really convenient and helpful chemist, right in our grocery store. They keep track of everything and request repeats from our doctor, which saves me a step… But even they did look at me a bit like why are you placing three orders here over several days when if you’d had your mind even half together you would have done it all at once last week?
Oh well.
The good news is that Archie and Schubert are pretty much best buds now. Cleo however still has this odd love/hate thing going with Archie, and will walk right up to him, hiss in his face, bat him, then run away. And he’s just standing there minding his own business! Then he might run after her, and she runs and hisses and makes a huge fuss…but actually seems to be almost playing…? I don’t know. Neuroses clearly infect even our pets in this household!
1) no kittens yet, though prowling mama won’t settle and then sleeps for hours. I’m off out this morning to get rubber gloves (eek) and antiseptic. Just in case.
2) E’s nighttime numbers have been CRAZY. First we up the basal, then we lower it, then god knows…. Not meeting with much settled success at the moment. Messed up my alarm last night and didn’t wake til 4am. Tested and he was 2mmols. Mega ugh. CHILDREN DO NOT WAKE WHEN HYPO. All this when having been 7mmols the night before, and 14mmols the night before that. Sigh.
3) we have not had an unbroken night’s sleep since about 20 July. Feeling quite used to it, but if we can’t get on top of this in some form before school starts, we will be dishcloths. I cannot help but feel that being in our late forties has something to do with this…Not built for it anymore. (Sorry, OH!)
4) AND Schubert disappeared for 12 hours yesterday. Scared us silly. Last thing we need is a runaway cat. Would rather trade in the kittens than that! He is now zonked out, not even rising for breakfast…
Over and out… And around and around…
Right well still no kittens, but certainly some ODD behaviour:
1) flat out stretched cat. Poor Cleo too uncomfortable to lie long on either side, sniff, so is lying with her front legs right out in front, chin on them, and back legs hunched up. Quite calm. The general consensus is that she probably has 3 or 4 babes in there, as we can see them moving (many more and apparently they are too squished to see move!).
2) a whole morning of prowling for nests and scratching in corners. Thank goodness we filled up the small square at the very back of the spare room double bed, otherwise that’s where she would now be I’m sure… She has now checked out and settled for a time in the bottom of OH’s wardrobe, in the bottom of my wardrobe, in the bottom of E’s wardrobe, and in the far corner of M’s playroom under a table. Sigh.
3) There is one creature who just LOVES to scratch the newspaper in the bottom of OH’s wardrobe, and spent much of yesterday there: Cleo’s brother Schubert. Argh! Right place, wrong cat. When I caught him in there, he looked at me like nobody here but us chickens (aka the fox in the chicken coop, the thief hiding in the chicken coop etc)…
***
Obviously, birth now getting closer. Not today I reckon though. She’s had breakfast and lunch!
And a story that made me laugh: this morning as usual I got up and went downstairs to the loo. Cleo was in there too, in her litter tray. She scratched. I did my business. Meanwhile M woke up and headed down the stairs. I flushed the toilet, and then Cleo walked out of the loo.
M came into the bathroom, giggling. She said that she might be just half asleep, but had Cleo just used the toilet?!
Ah well. Every little bit helps.
Waving and Drowning 