Sometimes with Diabetes, as in life, things aren't what they seem. Is that freakish high blood sugar really that, or is there some residual Sweedish Fish left on the fingertips of a previous low episode? (last week). Are high numbers at bedtime an indication of a site gone bad, or notice that it's time to tweak the dinner insulin: carb ratios? (last night)
And sometimes a whiny emotional outburst is the cover for internal turmoil of the diabetes variety.
Take, for example, an issue we've just recently burrowed to the bottom of. The school bus. Yes, that bastion of hierarchy where, with little or no supervision, older kids can get all Lord Of The Flies on unsuspecting younger children. So I was somewhat skeptical when Grace began complaining that the good-for-nothing second graders (Little Sister included) were stealing the hard earned 4th grade seats. Being a walker myself in elementary school, I was unaware of the seating chart on any given school bus - younger kids up front, older kids in the back (where I can only presume they're planning the next hostile takeover of the cafeteria on pizza day!).
Now you must understand that there's only 12 kids on our bus. TWELVE! that leaves, what, 40 or so seats available. But this bee had gotten into Grace's bonnet and she began complaining with more frequency about the snotty, entitled, second graders.
"Gracie, just find another seat," I said, much more concerned with those dinner I:C ratios swimming in my brain. "Or if it really bothers you, ask them politely to switch seats."
Really, I thought, wah-wah-wah. She needs to learn to handle these petty grievances on her own.
But then out came the true problem buried beneath all the whining and complaining. "Mom," she said, clearly struggling to find the words that would help me understand her dilemma. "You don't understand. I have to go to the nurse at dismissal to have my number checked. That's right when they call my bus. So my friends get on, then the second graders (said with as much disdain as possible) take all the next seats and by the time I get on there's no room left near my friends!"
BINGO! D dilemma, indeed.
I've dealt with my share of mean girls, I've survived puberty, first crushes, heart breaks and peer pressure. But I've never had to deal with all of that while living with a chronic condition that none of my closest friends has. I only hope I can be the mother Grace needs me to be to help guide her through. I hope I can recognize when her troubles aren't what they seem when diabetes is involved.
The apache wars by paul hutton
21 hours ago