Thursday, 11 April 2013

The Lowest and a Promise

Do you ever get tired of fighting with your child about what to use to treat a low?

Yesterday while I was at work, my mother called to let me know that Amy was feeling shakey and was 3.9 (70) and that she was refusing to drink a Junior Juice because I had told her that she could have a Banana Cream pudding for an afternoon snack if she was hungry.  since she hadn't had gym that day, and she was only dipping into the low, I said sure.  I'm tired of arguing with her.

20 minutes later I get another call.  She's now 3.2 (58).  She still doesn't want the juice.  I tell her to have 10 skittles.  I don't hear anything more until I open the front door.

"Mommy, this is the worst ever!"  she says while jumping up and down.  I'm expecting a story about how she made a huge mistake in her knitting (which my mother just taught her to do the past few weeks).

"I went to 1.4 (25)!"

My heart drops.  Then I turn angry.  and I'm embarassed to say I took it out on her a little.  Not the diabetes like I should have.  I scolded her for refusing the Apple Juice and not listening.  Her little face crumbled and she broke into tears apologizing.

When I got my things put away, I went and sat with her, gave her a hug and calmly explained who scarey that number can be, and what could possibly happen.  It rotted me that I wasn't there to make sure that she listened and used what I wanted her to use to treat.  It rotted me that we have to deal with this at all.  That my beautiful child could pass out, or worse because of this disease.  All because she just wanted a banana pudding and not a drink, because she wasn't thirsty!

I reminded her that I'm just trying to take good care of her, and want the best for her.  That I only want to use things that are quick, and that the pudding didn't absorb fast enough because of the fat and that juice works really quick because its already a liquid.  Stuff that 6 year old really don't know or care about.

She told me that she understood and that she was sorry and that she will listen from now on, and that she was so scared, and that she wished I had been home.

I'm lucky that my mom was there and that she acted quickly with some apple juice (FINALLY). She told me that she doesn't even remember where the glucagon is or how to use it.

Last night after tucking Amy into bed, finally asked her what it felt like.  How did she feel? Could she see? Could she walk?  Could she talk?

While shaking her head, and rolling her eyes around, she said I felt like "whoah, whoah, whoah" like my head was waving around. 

"I didn't like it" she said.  "I was scared" she said.  "I promise I will listen from now on" she said.

That was a close one.

1 comment:

  1. Poor little thing. I'm glad she's Ok and that you had a chance to talk with her about it.