Taking on North Dakota

Recently I realized the word "mom" is not a noun.  It's  a verb.  As a mom I'm always doing something mom related - picking up after the little darlings, running them to dance and piano.  Feeding or bathing the little buggers, etc.  My action word now adds taking on the North Dakota State Legislature.

On Tuesday I received a call from Chase's school nurse.  She informed me that due to state law, only she could administer a glucagon shot in case of a severe hypoglycemic event (low blood sugar).  My head spun - she's only there part time, we've trusted that someone, anyone at the school would give the shot if needed.  I kindly (I hope) relayed my disapproval of the law.  She put me in touch with the head of the school nurses to further make my head spin.

I was given a lesson on the ND Nurse Practices Act.  It states that glucagon is not stable or predictable and therefore cannot be administered by anyone other than a nurse.  Herein lies the problem.  Glucagon is both stable and predictable (add that we need full time school nurses, too). It is not dangerous.  Period.  Not administering the shot is what is dangerous.

Their solution?  Call an ambulance and administer glucose gel.

In severe cases of hypoglycemia - those in which loss of consciousness occurs, giving anything by the mouth is both difficult and dangerous.   The human brain depends on glucose to function.  Time lost waiting for an ambulance puts my child's brain at risk for damage.  Damage that could be avoided by giving the shot.

Yes, we've gone 8 years without having to breakout the glucagon.  The head of the school nurses tried to reassure me that glucagon is rarely used because kids today have much tighter control than years ago.  To this I say - SHIT HAPPENS.  We haven't come this far by letting our guard down. 

Last year I saw it.  I saw it from 100 feet away - a very low blood sugar. School had just gotten out and Chase was walking toward me leaning against the building the whole time.  I ran to him.  "I'm hungry," was the first thing he said to me. His blood was 47.  Why did he go so low?  He gave himself too much insulin at lunch.  When you ask an 8 year old to be in charge of counting his own carbs at lunch and then give himself insulin, shit will happen.

Nearly two years ago, I watched my dad have the mother of all insulin reactions. Over the course of 2 hours,  I watched my mom coax 32 ounces of sugared soda into my dad.  He had accidentally given himself too much insulin before bed.  Shit happened.

Where do we go from here?  I have no clue.  I do know I'm ready to fight not just for Chase, but all the ND kids affected by this law.  I'm ready to be the mother of all moms.

Just Keep Swimming

Resurfacing.  To come to the surface again.  To reappear.  For years I've felt like I've been keeping my head above water so when I read the article Resurfacing, it resonated with me. 

Eight years ago I was thrown under water.  The simple world on land I knew was no more.  In its place were meals and snacks that included algebraic equations and chemistry (two of my least favorite subjects in school, ironically).  The daily requirements to keep my son alive were mentally and physically exhausting - finger pokes and needles full of insulin all aimed at a two year old moving target.  Sleep was a long forgotten luxury. 

Flash forward eight years and two more kids later.  I don't remember Leah as a baby.  How is that possible?  How long have I been under water?  Cole's surprise immaculate conception and colic pushed me further under water.  Three kids - one with diabetes, one I managed to raise from birth in a fog, and one that has lived up to being a fiery little redhead - all while eking out a successful career as well.

I'm slowly leaving the water.  I feel tired, yet a little victorious.  We all survived.  I'm not naive enough to believe that I won't be thrown back in, but I'm starting to resurface.  I do know that I'm emerging a different person than I was eight years ago.  To be honest, I'm not sure who I am right now - wife, mother, part time pancreas, part time accountant?  I'm all of those, yet so much more.  I'm ready to come out of the water and see who I really am.

The kids safe on land.