It's times like these that I question not only myself but the decisions I have made to commit to this disease. Yes I committed to diabetes. I vowed to stick it out through sickness and in health. I'm sad to say, on my husband's part, there has never been health throughout the duration of our marriage.
I am in an extremely difficult situation. Stephen has given up. The last time his sugar was checked was yesterday around 4 pm and I am the one who checked it. It was 41, I fed him and he never checked it again when it came back up. The reason it dropped was because he laid in bed all day, as this has become a habit for him or rather an escape. He has become aggressive and violent. My days of nursing him are over. When I wake him to check his sugar he yells at me.
He is severely depressed and has quit taking his anti-depressent medication. He has been lying about it for the past two months. So, now there are two diseases I am battling as well as an obstinate husband. I know he needs help, he thinks otherwise. For I am the problem, he has declared this several times in the past few days.
The only option I am left with is to force help on him. I worry what his attitude will be like after he gets it. Will he hate me for it or will he thank me? I accepted the fact that he was sick and would need my help. What I didn't bargain for was the enmity he now thrusts towards me.
His exasperation has saddened me beyond my limits. I am constricted and weak. I ache for benevolence from him and this disease but he shows no indication of care and diabetes shows no mercy.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Some Laughing May Be Required
Once more while Stephen lay asleep his sugar dropped. I found him covered in sweat and shivering. The sweating is always a big red flag. I'm not talking about a couple of beads on the forehead. No, this is like someone has thrown a bucket or two of water on him. I checked his sugar and it was 34. One thing I find strange about diabetes is nothing ever happens the exact same way twice. His sugar has dropped lower on several occasions and a few of those times he has still been functional. This time, though, I was having a difficult time waking him up.
The first thing I tried to do was get him up in a sitting position. This proved quite difficult mainly because he weighed almost 100 lbs more than me at the time. My little 98 lb self tugged and pulled, talking the whole time. I finally got him leaning up only to be disappointed as I watched him slump back down but before he could completely return to his former position I attempted to get him to take a drink of my coke. I poured some in his mouth and watched it gurgle back out.
At this point I frantically ran to the kitchen and found a candy cane. I unwrapped it and just held it in his mouth. I waited a few minutes and checked his sugar and it wasn't coming up. I went back to the kitchen where I made a sugar water mixture and threw a straw in it. Once again I was disappointed when he wouldn't drink so I did that thing where you put your finger over the end of the straw to keep a few drops inside and I dropped it in his mouth. It stayed inside his mouth and I saw him swallow. I began to draw more and more liquid into the straw until finally I was giving him about half a straw full at a time.
After the sugar water was gone I gave him back the candy cane and to my surprise and satisfaction he began to bite off a small amount and chew. I watched as the candy cane got shorter and shorter until finally all that was left was a piece just big enough to hold but large enough I didn't dare put it in his mouth in case he choked. I made another sugar water drink and held the straw to his mouth just knowing he'd be able to drink this time. Instead of sucking, he blew. I laughed and told him to drink but all I got in return was the bubbling gurgle of him blowing through the straw.
He had eaten the candy cane quite well so I went to the pantry and got a Pop Tart the good and iced ones with the drizzle on top, I think it may have been blueberry or maybe grape. It was sweet and that's all that matters. Stephen took a bite and began to chew, I had to snatch back on it several times to keep him from taking too big of a bite. He did well with it and I waited long enough that I knew he had to be thirsty and offered the sugar water once more. This time he drank. I had only mixed a small amount and I let him finish the Pop Tart before going to make more.
When I returned his eyes were open. I held the straw to his mouth and told him to drink and he once again blew bubbles in it. I firmly told him to drink and he took a sip and then returned to his blowing. I tried again, failed and finally he said, "I don't want that". I then put the straw in my coke and he drank.
I checked his sugar again and its 36 this time. I remember thinking what an amazing difference those two points had made. He went from being lethargic and non-compliant to just semi non-compliant very quickly. I gave him another Pop Tart and watched as he lay propped up on his elbow chewing slowly.
Soon he was saying he was ready for a shower and I knew his sugar had returned to a safe enough level for him to do so. I asked if he remembered blowing bubbles in the sugar water and giving me such a hard time and of course he didn't. I then asked if he remembered the first thing I gave him to eat and he said, "No. What was it?" When I told him his reply made me laugh, he said, "Candy cane? I don't even like candy canes. Why did you make me eat a candy cane?"
I found it strange yet interesting how childlike he was this particular time. He was extremely difficult and hard headed which makes me wonder if this is similar to what his mother went through when he was a child. I can still laugh about it and I will never look at a candy cane in the same way. I feel blessed to have been able to react as quickly as I did and to have enough sense during it all to make the right decisions.
The first thing I tried to do was get him up in a sitting position. This proved quite difficult mainly because he weighed almost 100 lbs more than me at the time. My little 98 lb self tugged and pulled, talking the whole time. I finally got him leaning up only to be disappointed as I watched him slump back down but before he could completely return to his former position I attempted to get him to take a drink of my coke. I poured some in his mouth and watched it gurgle back out.
At this point I frantically ran to the kitchen and found a candy cane. I unwrapped it and just held it in his mouth. I waited a few minutes and checked his sugar and it wasn't coming up. I went back to the kitchen where I made a sugar water mixture and threw a straw in it. Once again I was disappointed when he wouldn't drink so I did that thing where you put your finger over the end of the straw to keep a few drops inside and I dropped it in his mouth. It stayed inside his mouth and I saw him swallow. I began to draw more and more liquid into the straw until finally I was giving him about half a straw full at a time.
After the sugar water was gone I gave him back the candy cane and to my surprise and satisfaction he began to bite off a small amount and chew. I watched as the candy cane got shorter and shorter until finally all that was left was a piece just big enough to hold but large enough I didn't dare put it in his mouth in case he choked. I made another sugar water drink and held the straw to his mouth just knowing he'd be able to drink this time. Instead of sucking, he blew. I laughed and told him to drink but all I got in return was the bubbling gurgle of him blowing through the straw.
He had eaten the candy cane quite well so I went to the pantry and got a Pop Tart the good and iced ones with the drizzle on top, I think it may have been blueberry or maybe grape. It was sweet and that's all that matters. Stephen took a bite and began to chew, I had to snatch back on it several times to keep him from taking too big of a bite. He did well with it and I waited long enough that I knew he had to be thirsty and offered the sugar water once more. This time he drank. I had only mixed a small amount and I let him finish the Pop Tart before going to make more.
When I returned his eyes were open. I held the straw to his mouth and told him to drink and he once again blew bubbles in it. I firmly told him to drink and he took a sip and then returned to his blowing. I tried again, failed and finally he said, "I don't want that". I then put the straw in my coke and he drank.
I checked his sugar again and its 36 this time. I remember thinking what an amazing difference those two points had made. He went from being lethargic and non-compliant to just semi non-compliant very quickly. I gave him another Pop Tart and watched as he lay propped up on his elbow chewing slowly.
Soon he was saying he was ready for a shower and I knew his sugar had returned to a safe enough level for him to do so. I asked if he remembered blowing bubbles in the sugar water and giving me such a hard time and of course he didn't. I then asked if he remembered the first thing I gave him to eat and he said, "No. What was it?" When I told him his reply made me laugh, he said, "Candy cane? I don't even like candy canes. Why did you make me eat a candy cane?"
I found it strange yet interesting how childlike he was this particular time. He was extremely difficult and hard headed which makes me wonder if this is similar to what his mother went through when he was a child. I can still laugh about it and I will never look at a candy cane in the same way. I feel blessed to have been able to react as quickly as I did and to have enough sense during it all to make the right decisions.
Monday, February 28, 2011
First Call
I remember the first time I had to call for an ambulance but the details are hazy. Stephen had over-slept just a bit, not by much I think it was around ten or eleven o'clock. We tried to wake him up but he was very lethargic. I checked his sugar and it was 27, I didn't freak out but I was scared. I called 911 and got them on the way then called my sister-in-law to come get the kids.
I can recall the expression on my son's face. It was one of both excitement and anguish. Somewhere in between I called Steve's mother. The paramedics weren't the best group. There were two interns, I guess you'd say, and they had a lot to learn yet.The actual paramedics weren't the brightest either. They squirted some sugar gel stuff in his mouth and eventually he started to come around. One of the interns checked Steve's sugar every couple of minutes. The issue I had with that is she pricked his finger every time. I told her she could "milk" the last spot instead of re-sticking him. She had no idea what I was talking about but at last the female paramedic stepped in knowing what I had meant. You can squeeze upwards on the finger, much like milking a cow, to make it bleed again.
After is sugar rose and Stephen was awake and semi-alert the paramedics asked me if I still wanted him to go to the hospital. He explained that there would be no point in it since his sugar levels were coming up. So I told him no. He gave me a paper to sign stating that I refused the ride. The wording bothered me as I had not refused but was convinced. I signed it anyways and they left. I got Steve something to eat and he returned to himself. I explained to him everything that had happened because often when his sugar drops real low he has no recollection of any of it. He then got angry and said that the paramedics should have known to take him to the hospital for a blood and urine test to determine if his kidneys had shut down. That's when he told me that below 32 your kidneys can shut down. I was not happy.
I was glad that Stephen was okay. Later he got grouchy. His attitude was ferocious, snapping at everything I said. My reaction was buried deep inside me, I had selfish thoughts at first, thinking that I had just saved him and he had no gratitude. Eventually I went outside and vented on the phone to my sister-in-law and cried. I talked myself, with her help, back to reality. I assured myself that he was only acting that way because his sugar had dropped and he was feeling bad. It wasn't long after I overcome my self pity that I realized he was embarrassed. It was his own self repugnance that caused him to lash out at me.
We survived it, all of us. I knew it was the first of many similar episodes to come. I learned from it, gained knowledge and swore to do better next time. Yes, I felt as if it was my fault at first. I felt like it was my constraint and obligation to keep him healthy and alive. The thought still sits heavy on my heart. If I fail then I am a disappointment. I know this is not entirely true but it is a feeling I get. Diabetes is a beast with which there is no compromise and we both continue with the never ending battle, not allowing it to conquer Steve physically or either of us mentally.
I can recall the expression on my son's face. It was one of both excitement and anguish. Somewhere in between I called Steve's mother. The paramedics weren't the best group. There were two interns, I guess you'd say, and they had a lot to learn yet.The actual paramedics weren't the brightest either. They squirted some sugar gel stuff in his mouth and eventually he started to come around. One of the interns checked Steve's sugar every couple of minutes. The issue I had with that is she pricked his finger every time. I told her she could "milk" the last spot instead of re-sticking him. She had no idea what I was talking about but at last the female paramedic stepped in knowing what I had meant. You can squeeze upwards on the finger, much like milking a cow, to make it bleed again.
After is sugar rose and Stephen was awake and semi-alert the paramedics asked me if I still wanted him to go to the hospital. He explained that there would be no point in it since his sugar levels were coming up. So I told him no. He gave me a paper to sign stating that I refused the ride. The wording bothered me as I had not refused but was convinced. I signed it anyways and they left. I got Steve something to eat and he returned to himself. I explained to him everything that had happened because often when his sugar drops real low he has no recollection of any of it. He then got angry and said that the paramedics should have known to take him to the hospital for a blood and urine test to determine if his kidneys had shut down. That's when he told me that below 32 your kidneys can shut down. I was not happy.
I was glad that Stephen was okay. Later he got grouchy. His attitude was ferocious, snapping at everything I said. My reaction was buried deep inside me, I had selfish thoughts at first, thinking that I had just saved him and he had no gratitude. Eventually I went outside and vented on the phone to my sister-in-law and cried. I talked myself, with her help, back to reality. I assured myself that he was only acting that way because his sugar had dropped and he was feeling bad. It wasn't long after I overcome my self pity that I realized he was embarrassed. It was his own self repugnance that caused him to lash out at me.
We survived it, all of us. I knew it was the first of many similar episodes to come. I learned from it, gained knowledge and swore to do better next time. Yes, I felt as if it was my fault at first. I felt like it was my constraint and obligation to keep him healthy and alive. The thought still sits heavy on my heart. If I fail then I am a disappointment. I know this is not entirely true but it is a feeling I get. Diabetes is a beast with which there is no compromise and we both continue with the never ending battle, not allowing it to conquer Steve physically or either of us mentally.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Its a Family Thing
When one member of the family suffers from diabetes, inevitably, the entire family suffers. Steve and I have two children, Gavin who is almost six and Ava who just turned three. We've tried to fill them in the best we can on diabetes, how much of it they understand we aren't sure. They realize that Daddy can't eat sugar and they know that he has to take shots. Ava, our extremely compassionate and eager to help child, picks up on when Daddy isn't feeling well and will ask, "Do you need to check your sugar?". Being only three she can load the meter with a test strip, prick his finger and check his sugar nearly all on her own. I am so proud of her for this! Gavin would rather feed Dad saying, "You want some? It doesn't have much sugar."
So they know that Dad is different from them and they also know that Dad doesn't feel good much of the time. It's hard watching your child grab a football and excitedly ask if his dad wants to go outside and play, only to be let down. This happens more often than not and I try to fill in the best I can but I can't take his place.
On the days Steve feels okay he always tries to get us out of the house. We love visiting state parks and hiking the nature trails and plan to one day be able to say that we have visited every Florida State Park. We also love the rivers and beaches. If nothing else we will just load up the dogs and take a ride.
One of hardest things to watch is a paramedic loading Steve into an ambulance and seeing the worry on my children's faces. Another would be the look on their faces when they see Dad lying in a hospital bed hooked to several I.V.'s and monitors. Again all we can do is try to explain things and hope they get some kind of understanding out of it all.
Like me, they have to endure the mood swings but I try to protect them as much as I can by telling them when Stephen isn't feeling good and shooing them from the room. After his sugar returns to normal I always make it a point to have him apologize if needed. They never doubt their Dad's love for them.
Diabetes is a menace to the lives of each person it touches. Everyday is a battle but being a family, more often than not, makes us stronger than the disease. Stephen has three people who love him very much, who watch over him and brings him cookies when he needs them and that makes us a force to be reckoned with.
So they know that Dad is different from them and they also know that Dad doesn't feel good much of the time. It's hard watching your child grab a football and excitedly ask if his dad wants to go outside and play, only to be let down. This happens more often than not and I try to fill in the best I can but I can't take his place.
On the days Steve feels okay he always tries to get us out of the house. We love visiting state parks and hiking the nature trails and plan to one day be able to say that we have visited every Florida State Park. We also love the rivers and beaches. If nothing else we will just load up the dogs and take a ride.
One of hardest things to watch is a paramedic loading Steve into an ambulance and seeing the worry on my children's faces. Another would be the look on their faces when they see Dad lying in a hospital bed hooked to several I.V.'s and monitors. Again all we can do is try to explain things and hope they get some kind of understanding out of it all.
Like me, they have to endure the mood swings but I try to protect them as much as I can by telling them when Stephen isn't feeling good and shooing them from the room. After his sugar returns to normal I always make it a point to have him apologize if needed. They never doubt their Dad's love for them.
Diabetes is a menace to the lives of each person it touches. Everyday is a battle but being a family, more often than not, makes us stronger than the disease. Stephen has three people who love him very much, who watch over him and brings him cookies when he needs them and that makes us a force to be reckoned with.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Introductions
I am a wife and mother. While I am not diabetic my husband, Stephen a.k.a. Steve, is and it is just as much my battle. Before we married I knew I had to endure times of struggle with this disease and although Steve warned me of things to come, nothing could have fully prepared me for the road ahead.
Stephen has Type 1 Diabetes and depends on two different kinds of insulin, Novolog and Lantus. I must admit this excited me in the beginning as much as it frightened me. It was something new and different and to me it set my husband apart. I was eager to learn how to use the sliding scale to determine how much insulin to administer and just as eager to administer it. This curiosity proved to aid in the absorption of information thrown my way. I soaked it up like a sponge. It is a knowledge that will never leave me.
I knew from the beginning that it was to be my duty to watch him and remind him to eat, to check his sugar and to remind him to take his other medication as well. What I didn't realize is his reaction, at times, to this nagging. You see, diabetes not only affects the physical well being but the mental also. Diabetics are prone to mood swings, depression and at times perhaps self loathing. So of course when put in this situation one is forced to prioritize their own feelings for the well being of another, every time I remind him I take the risk of making him mad but it's a risk that has to be taken.
Along with diabetes my husband suffers from Diabetic Neuropathy which is nerve damage caused by diabetes. He's in pain every day. He says his toes feel broke, his legs burn and worse of all the nerve damage is in his stomach as well which affects how and when his stomach digests. Many of the things he's not supposed to eat he couldn't if he wanted to, an example would be rice. His body refuses to digest rice so when eaten it comes back up. This is heartbreaking for someone who loves rice dishes as much as I do but it's another small sacrifice that has to be taken. I still have my stir fry and so on from time to time, I just make mashed potatoes for him instead.
As I go further into my blog I will take you on an emotional experience. If nothing happens for that day I will relive an episode in the past. And there have been a few ambulance calls and hospital stays already. You will soon know what it is like to be married to a diabetic, to draw blood and stick a needle in your husband's arm and live nearly every moment wondering when it will be your last together. This is my journal and I am sharing it with you.
Stephen has Type 1 Diabetes and depends on two different kinds of insulin, Novolog and Lantus. I must admit this excited me in the beginning as much as it frightened me. It was something new and different and to me it set my husband apart. I was eager to learn how to use the sliding scale to determine how much insulin to administer and just as eager to administer it. This curiosity proved to aid in the absorption of information thrown my way. I soaked it up like a sponge. It is a knowledge that will never leave me.
I knew from the beginning that it was to be my duty to watch him and remind him to eat, to check his sugar and to remind him to take his other medication as well. What I didn't realize is his reaction, at times, to this nagging. You see, diabetes not only affects the physical well being but the mental also. Diabetics are prone to mood swings, depression and at times perhaps self loathing. So of course when put in this situation one is forced to prioritize their own feelings for the well being of another, every time I remind him I take the risk of making him mad but it's a risk that has to be taken.
Along with diabetes my husband suffers from Diabetic Neuropathy which is nerve damage caused by diabetes. He's in pain every day. He says his toes feel broke, his legs burn and worse of all the nerve damage is in his stomach as well which affects how and when his stomach digests. Many of the things he's not supposed to eat he couldn't if he wanted to, an example would be rice. His body refuses to digest rice so when eaten it comes back up. This is heartbreaking for someone who loves rice dishes as much as I do but it's another small sacrifice that has to be taken. I still have my stir fry and so on from time to time, I just make mashed potatoes for him instead.
As I go further into my blog I will take you on an emotional experience. If nothing happens for that day I will relive an episode in the past. And there have been a few ambulance calls and hospital stays already. You will soon know what it is like to be married to a diabetic, to draw blood and stick a needle in your husband's arm and live nearly every moment wondering when it will be your last together. This is my journal and I am sharing it with you.
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