I usually write about little stories that happen to us or about D or updates on appointments or accomplishment or mile-markers. I always try to stay positive. I know there are multiple hardships with the disease and I try to keep myself focused on how life is still good, because it is. But I’m just going to share my thoughts/questions with my d-moms or those of you T1ers who live it. I am a very anxious momma today and must thow something out there.
In three days, we will hit 8 months living with D and it’s time we start thinking about an insulin pump for Ryan. October 21st is D-day . . . or actually, it’s P-day (Pump day). I have pushed and pushed and been so aggravated at the process of getting him on a pump, and now that we are almost there, I’m anxious. And I’m not anxious about the learning curve (okay maybe a little) . . . and I know there will be one. I’m not anxious about which one to choose . . . and I know an important decision is to be made in which I have conflicting opinions. It’s about him wearing something on his body that will be a reminder when I see it that he has a disease.
I hope my d-moms don’t take offense to that last statement. I am NOT ashamed that Ryan has diabetes. We don’t go to the restroom in a restaurant and take his sugar and give him a shot before meals. We don’t go over in a corner and discreetly take care of his insulin when we are at a church dinner. We don’t excuse ourselves sneak off to another room when we have company at our home when it’s time to have a meal together. We politely just do business as if it’s totally normal right at the table, right where we are seated . . . because it IS normal for us. I have even been known to leave used test strips sitting on a table while we eat at a restaurant and not even realize I’d done that until the meal was over; I’m pretty sure you won’t find that in any manual on proper dining etiquette or even sanitary eating practice. So it’s not a matter of being ashamed or trying to hide the life we live or that Ryan has a disease.
It’s that device that will sit in a pouch at his waist and be connected to a site on his belly or the pod that will be affixed to the back of his arm (still undecided on which pump) that I fear . . . yes, I did say FEAR. Every step we have made in this 8 month process whether it be good or bad, easy or hard, has sent this momma into an emotional gushing or tailspin. And there is something about that visual that gives me a sick feeling in my stomach.
For example, I can be at Kohl’s in shoppers euphoria at the deals I am snagging , completely in a zone, and be interrupted by the out-of-control loud giggles and laughter of my boys entertaining themselves while I get my bargain fix. As my eyes scan over the small male figures as I count off silently in my head “1,2,3” (taking inventory of my boys, of course), my vision becomes momentarily locked on that bag, that gray D-bag Ryan has draped over one shoulder falling down to the opposite hip holding a meter, strips, lancet device, a Capri Sun, Smarties, icing gel, a 15 carb snack and two kinds of insulin and I have that feeling again, that feeling that washes over me like a cold bucket of water and I hear that voice in my head while there is an ache in my heart, “My son has a disease.”
Now it doesn’t happen all the time. As a matter of fact, it doesn’t happen very often at all anymore. But it’s those times that it does, when there seems to be no reason for it and it totally catches me off guard that seems to knock me on my bottom. I fear that with the pump. Right now, for us, it’s just that bag. He has a shot four times a day and four-six finger pokes then nothing he wears says there is anything different about him. And no one notices the bag but me. It’s just a gray bag that to a stranger could be holding a game system or books or any sort of thing a boy would like to carry and have with him. But the pump could be a totally different issue. I read Penny’s entry “Community in My Community” and wondered if I was ready for such a step, for the stares that most likely will come along with a pump (although you MUST read this entry because it will touch your heart. Thank you, Penny, for sharing).
Ryan is anxious to get the pump. He can’t wait. He’s so ready to be done with the shots and have a cool device that gives him his life-source. And I have been reading and trying to educate myself as much as possible so I have questions to ask while the Animas, Medtronic and OmniPod reps are there. And I guess that’s why this is looming in my mind is all the reading about the different pumps. And the thought keeps coming to my mind, “Are we ready for this?”
I’m not depressed. I’m not angry. I’m not overwhelmed with grief like in the early days. I’m just anxious. I’m simply being real, vulnerable. Letting you in to see where I really am so you can offer up some wisdom (hint, hint for you d-moms who have been here where I am) and ask for your prayers for courage for this “green” d-momma.