Confession Session

I have a love-hate relationship with a certain sentence. You know the one I'm talking about. It goes like this, "Mom, I have a confession to make."

I am always grateful when my kids fess up and tell the truth. It delights me that they can't keep things from me. Their confessions remind me (as if I need reminding) that they're good little people, who prefer to have a clear conscience and who believe that honesty is the best policy.

Their actual confessions, however, ugh, they're never good. Today's confession came from Madeline and Jack, but mostly Jack.

"I hate to tell you this," Jack began. "Madeline and I ate candy."

We were about to eat dinner, and Jack had just tested his blood sugar level. His meter read "HI."

"HI?" I questioned. "Jack did you eat something and not tell me about it?"

And then the truth came out. Five stinkin' gummy Life Savers shot his sugar "HI." I hate diabetes. We're talking about 13 grams of carbohydrates. That's not that much...unless you happen to have type 1 diabetes. Sigh...

"Madeline ate more," Jack continued. "She ate lots of Life Savers and some Smarties, too. I really wanted to eat more like Madeline, but I was afraid to. I thought my blood sugar would go too high, so I didn't. And look, it did. I'm high. I'm really sorry, mom."

I remember when I was a kid, I used to save my Halloween candy for months, and when I thought no one was looking, I'd sneak some M & Ms or a lollypop or whatever my stash offered. The joys of childhood! Heck, there are still some days when I sneak a cookie, and I catch Gregg reaching for the goodies we use to treat Jack's lows all the time.

Madeline eats a secret treat, and we never find out, unless she fails to toss the wrapper(s), which she often does, silly girl. (She usually hides them under her bed or in her desk drawer. I won't tell her this, but it's time she finds a new hiding place! ;) ) Jack does the same thing, but he's forced to fess up. His blood sugar level reveals the secret. I hate how diabetes has robbed him of that simple joy...not that I really want my kids eating junk, especially behind my back. It's just the whole idea. It's just another thing Jack can't do. It's just another way that diabetes affects his childhood.

"There's something else I need to tell you," Jack went on. "I flushed all the wrappers down the toilet, so you wouldn't find them. I didn't clog the toilet though."

I had to laugh over Jack's need to tell the truth, the whole truth. Oh, how I love that boy, confessions and all.

Ice Cream Update and Number Analysis

Some days, it seems, I scream. Gregg screams. We all scream at ice cream, as it wreaks havoc with Jack's blood sugar levels. But last night, after eating a small bowl of Moose Tracks, Jack spiked only to 237 and then hovered in the low 200s overnight. What a relief!

By mid-morning, after receiving some insulin, he was back down to the low 100s, where he stayed for most of the day. He had a couple of lows, 49 right before lunch and 65 right before bed, but bounced back quickly with juice. Overall, it was another great day.

These blood sugar numbers have me thinking...

Last summer, Jack maintained nice numbers for the majority of the summer. Sure, he experienced swings, but he didn't have as many highs and lows as he did in the previous months.

Because Jack attended a day camp called "Shemesh," I used to joke about "the Shemesh effect," as in, "Look, another beautiful blood sugar day in the 100s! Must be the Shemesh effect!"

Over fall break, we experienced a another week of good numbers. And, now over winter break, I'm realizing the pattern. When Jack's not in school, his numbers are much more stable.

So now my mind is spinning...Is school too stressful? Is it the academics? Is it the structure? Is it his diabetes?

In a school of over 900, he is one of two students, who has type 1, but the other student is much older than Jack, and Jack has never met him. I don't think Jack even knows about him. So Jack feels alone and very different from every other student he knows at school.

How can we help him? If school is indeed too stressful, what would make it less stressful? I can't take away his diabetes, but can I make it easier? Does managing his diabetes overwhelm him? Have we given him too much responsibility? Or not enough? Is this the right academic environment for him? Or, are his school days just too full and fast-paced? Does he simply do better when we have less going on?

Jack often asks me, "Why can't the school week be two days long and the weekend be five days long?" The question usually pops up on Sunday night, as I'm tucking him into bed. I've always thought it was just a six-year-old's way of saying the weekend isn't long enough. Besides, wouldn't most people like a five-day weekend every week? I know I wouldn't mind a little more down time!

Now, I'm wondering, is his question a reflection of something more? Or am I reading too much into it? Am I also over-analyzing his numbers? Is there really a pattern, or is it merely coincidental? Will he enjoy more stable numbers over spring break too? Will his numbers begin to swing more when school resumes in January?

Time will tell. In the mean time, I'm going to sit back and enjoy the ride.

Lazy Days of Winter Break

I'm having a hard time blogging lately. Actually, I'm having a hard time accomplishing anything. Truth be told, I didn't even manage to change out of my pajamas today. The kids are home from school on winter break, and we have been taking it easy and enjoying lazy days. It has been so nice not having to set the alarm clock, make school lunches, supervise homework or concern myself with reading logs and spelling lists. Because we don't celebrate Christmas, we're not as busy as many of our friends this week, and our free time feels like a true luxury. We can afford to sleep late, spend an hour at the breakfast table and watch movies, play with Hanukkah gifts and go for bike rides during the day. This afternoon, the kids played in the pouring rain, stomping in puddles, twirling umbrellas and catching rain drops on their tongues. I was happy to stay inside where I could watch them them from the comforts of the couch, while staying warm and sipping a cup of a hot tea. I think these carefree, stress-free days are having a positive impact on Jack. His numbers have been excellent. He's had a few lows here and there, but nothing too low, and no highs for days now. Tonight may change all that though. Madeline had a baby tooth extracted this afternoon. (Gregg took her to visit the dentist; dressed in my PJs, I stayed home with the boys). The dentist told her that she should eat soft foods tonight. He went so far as to suggest ice cream. We almost never have ice cream in the house. So Gregg went to the store and bought Blue Bunny Moose Tracks ice cream. If you've never tasted it, and if you like chocolate, caramel and peanut butter, try it. It's so good! We carefully measured a half-cup of this delicious dessert for Jack, and then we injected him with enough insulin to cover the 21 grams of carbohydrates that half-cup contained. But, I suspect that he's going to run high and need more insulin and that it's going to be a long, late night for Gregg and me. As I tucked Jack into bed, he complained, "I'm really thirsty." So out of bed and into the kitchen he went for a big glass of water. Thirst is a sign of high blood sugar. So if you're reading this tonight (Tuesday), please cross your fingers for us. I'm praying Jack won't run high and tonight will be just as easy and stress-free as our day was! Happy holidays everyone!

Recent Events

More than two weeks have passed since I last posted. How did that happen?! Like so many this time of year, I have been BUSY! Never mind the regular stuff like soccer games, Cub Scout meetings and volunteering in the kids' classrooms. I have been overwhelmed by special event after special event. We hosted Thanksgiving and then three days later, we held Madeline's 8th birthday party at our house. Two days after that, we celebrated Gregg's birthday. For the following evening, I organized a girls' night out to celebrate a friend's birthday. Then, I dove into poster making, as both Madeline and Jack are simultaneously "Star of the Week" in school this week. Next, I co-hosted an early Chanukah celebration for 11 families from our temple. Yesterday, we honored my mom with a birthday dinner, and tonight, friends and family will join us for dinner to celebrate both the first night of Chanukah and a dear friend's birthday. Whew! That's a lot of celebrations! I've felt like a professional party planner! And in between my list making, errand running and food prepping, diabetes has reared its ugly head a number of times. Here's the story of one experience I won't soon forget. Last Saturday, while I was showering, Jack popped his head into my bathroom and said, "Mom, I feel low." That's generally not a problem. Jack can test his own blood and knows where to find either juice, candy or glucose tablets to treat a low. "Go do a poke and see what your blood sugar level is," I replied to Jack. "I don't want to. I want you to test my blood," he whined in such a way that I knew we were in trouble. I rinsed the last of my facial cleanser, opened my eyes, peeked out of the shower and saw Jack sprawled across the bathroom floor. "Jack, get up! Go poke!" I yelled. "I can't," he complained. My heart started to pound. Jack was LOW. He needed help immediately. Gregg was out of the house, and I was soaking wet in the middle of my shower with a head full of conditioner. I turned off the water, grabbed a towel, wrapped my body, and ran out my bedroom, down the hall and over to the kitchen to grab Jack's testing supplies, juice and candy. As I rounded a corner and entered the kitchen, I saw Gregg walking in. He had just arrived home and, thank goodness, was able to help me with Jack, whose blood sugar, we discovered, was at the lovely level of 49. Some times, at 49, Jack is functional. Some times, like last Saturday, he is not. He was, however, able to gulp down some juice without any resistance. (Low blood sugar often makes him grumpy and belligerent! I'm not complaining here, though. I'm sure I'd be just as surly if my blood sugar had just plummeted, too.) So we treated the low, and Jack bounced back. I finished my shower and took a few moments to relax under the hot water. It was another memorable moment in parenting a child with diabetes. But, all's well that ends well.

Upsetting news

I received upsetting news today. I learned about a seventeen-year-old high school senior, Alec Temple, who died in his sleep on Sunday night. A diabetic seizure claimed his life. I didn't know Alec, but the news of his death devastated me. A deadly seizure caused by low blood sugar in the middle of the night--that's every D parent's worst nightmare. That's why we don't sleep well. That's why we wake up in the middle of the night to test our children's blood sugar levels. That's why even after we check on our kids, we still worry. We tuck our kids into bed, we kiss them goodnight, we check on them, and we pray we'll see them sitting at the breakfast table in the morning. Alec's death is a reminder of how precious life is and what a horrible, serious, scary disease diabetes is and how we must continue to research and ultimately find the cure. My heart goes out to Alec's family. I will keep them in my thoughts and prayers. I will remember Alec. And I will hug my little ones a little longer tonight.

Scared Sister

In the days leading up to Jack's diabetes diagnosis, he peed a lot. In fact, that was the symptom that concerned us, that prompted us to take him to the pediatrician and that led to his diagnosis. I clearly remember repeating to Gregg a fact that I'd read somewhere, "Frequent urination is a warning sign of diabetes. Jack could have diabetes." Thus, whenever Madeline or Max appears to run to the restroom more often than normal, I take notice. Besides, once you've had one child diagnosed with one major health condition, you know all too well that additional diagnoses are not out of the realm of possibility. This weekend, Madeline began to pee a lot. She had none of the other symptoms of diabetes, and really, she wasn't peeing nearly as much as Jack was peeing before his diagnosis. And she wasn't complaining about any discomfort. So I wasn't too concerned about diabetes, a urinary tract infection or anything else. But I did notice, kept my eye on her and kept quiet. What saddened me was that she noticed, started to worry and spoke up. "Mom, I have to go potty again. Do you think I could have diabetes?" she asked. Her question hit me in the heart. I felt so badly for her, as she felt afraid. She does not want diabetes. She sees what Jack experiences on a daily basis, and she does not want to endure the same. I tried to comfort her as best as I could. We talked about Jack's symptoms before his diagnosis versus hers, and she soon felt better, realizing that she does not have the same condition as her brother. While Madeline's pancreas works just fine, she is still affected by diabetes. We all are. How could we not be?

Costco Fiasco

I'm feeling most irritated at the moment. We just returned home from Costco. My kids love going to Costco, because of the "ladies," as they call the women (and men) who serve food samples. "Look! There's a lady!" one of my three will call out with excitement at the first sighting of a product demonstrator. "Let's go see what she's handing out!" another will say with matched excitement. "Can we go over there now?! Can we? Can we please?" the third will beg. Today, one "lady" was serving Sunkist Fruit Gems. Of course, the kids wanted to taste the chewy, fruit-flavored candies, but it's been a difficult diabetes day. Jack fought a stubborn low this morning only to run high this afternoon. I picked up a package of Fruit Gems and read the nutrition label. Four pieces equaled 34 grams of carbohydrates. "Jack, just one little piece is 8 1/2 carbs. You're already running high. Let's take a sample home with us, and you can enjoy it later when your blood sugar is lower," I suggested. "I can eat four of those gems, and they do nothing to my blood sugar level," the "lady" chimed in. "Did she really just say that?!" I thought to myself. I began to steam. "See mom," Jack said. "They do nothing to her." I began to boil at this point. Why did that "lady" have to intervene? "Honey, they're practically pure sugar. They'll elevate your blood sugar. They're not a good choice right now. You're already running high." "I'm telling you I'm a diabetic, and they do nothing to me," the "lady" added. Just what we needed to hear. I was beyond boiling at this point. I wanted to grab the package of string cheese in my cart and hit her over the head with it. Who messes with a mom and her kid?! Especially when that mom is talking about blood sugar?! It was obvious I was concerned about a health condition. I wasn't denying my son a snack to be mean. I was trying to protect his well-being. This "lady" should have known better. "Thank you for the information," I replied as politely as I could, "but he has type 1 diabtes and you probaby have type two." "Oh," she said with a look of confusion. "One piece of this candy will send his blood sugar level soaring," I explained, holding back my emotions. "At his age, he has diabetes?" she asked. She shook her head in what appeared to be disgust, as if I had caused his condition, and muttered, "Sheesh, poor thing. Well, I can eat four of them." "Well, good for you!" I wanted to scream. I simply thanked her for the sample, walked away as fast as I could and then took a breather in another section of the store. "You won't believe what that lady just said to us!" I told Gregg. Tears began to well in my eyes, as I recalled the conversation. Why do others feel the need to put in their two cents? The "lady" clearly did not understand the differences between type 1 and type 2. She acted as though she was surprised that a child Jack's age could actually have diabetes. I'm convinced she thought he has the same disease that she has. I know she was just trying to sell her product and be helpful. But she wasn't! She made matters worse. She intervened, when she should have shut up. Grrrrrrr!! The next time we're in Costco, hopefully that "lady" will mind her own business! Or I might just grab my package of string cheese and clobber her!

Panic Part Two

One would think that after Tuesday's mistake of leaving Jack's diabetes kit at home when we went to the park, I would be more mindful. Apparently, not so, as I left home this morning without my cell phone. Tuesday's forgetfulness was nothing more than my desire to be punctual. I was rushing to get Madeline to soccer practice on time. I omitted from my "Panic at the Park" post what caused our haste. As we were walking out the door to go to soccer practice, Max slipped into the conversation, "Um, mom, I hate to tell you this, but I had an accident." So I had to clean him and change his clothes, which then led to us running late, which then led to my rushing, which then caused me to forget Jack's kit. This morning, however, there were no accidents. There were no unexpected issues. The phone did not ring. There was nothing to distract me. We were not running late. I just simply forgot. Dumb! So there I was, driving Max to preschool, and I realized I'd left my cell phone at home. Aaaacccckkk! I panicked. My mind raced. All sorts of scenarios and fears filled my thoughts. What if Jack has a problem in school and either his teacher or his school nurse needs to get a hold of me? What if they can't reach me, and they try Gregg, and everyone in his office is on the phone, and thus, no one answers the call? How would Jack feel if neither of his parents were available to him in an emergency? For that matter, what if something happened to Madeline? She had been complaining of a cough this morning. What if she doesn't feel well and needs to be picked up early from school? What if....? What if...? What if...? And what do I do after I drop off Max? Do I rush home? Do I stick to my schedule? I had plans to meet a friend for coffee. How could I call her to inform her that I needed, regrettably, to cancel our plans and go home? I could use the preschool phone, but I didn't know her cell phone number. I haven't memorized it. I haven't need to memorize it. It's in my list of contacts on my cell phone! Out of respect for my friend, I met her at the coffee shop after dropping off Max at school, as planned, and I immediately asked to use her phone. I called Gregg, and I reached his voice mail, just as I'd feared the school nurse or Jack's teacher would. I left him a message, asking him to contact the school and explain my situation to her. Gregg is good at following up on stuff like that, but I had no idea when he'd check his messages.

I convinced myself that Jack would be fine, that the nurse is capable of handling all situations (more than capable really; she's fabulous) and that the nurse would keep trying to call us, if one of the kids needed us. Besides, I told myself, there are plenty of times when I do have my cell phone with me, but the cellular service is so weak that I can't be reached. Leaving my cell phone at home, I decided, was not the end of the world. I could relax. Jack would be fine.

So I enjoyed a cup of decaf with my friend. (The last thing I needed was caffeine!) Yet, all the while, I kept thinking of Jack and my dumb mistake, and my friend repeatedly checked her phone to see if Gregg had returned my call. He never did call me back. And as it turned out, Jack was fine. Phew! I spent the rest of the day, pondering how in the world did people survive in the days before cell phones? Especially, how did parents of children with type 1 diabetes or other medical conditions survive? As a society, we've become so dependent on our technology, and it made me beyond nervous today to be away simultaneously from Jack and my cell phone. Did I stress too much? Maybe. But, so much could happen so quickly to Jack. It's scary to be out of touch. My cell phone enables me to leave Jack at school without worry. You can bet I won't leave the house tomorrow without it!

Panic at the Park

Madeline plays soccer, and her team practices on Tuesday afternoons at a nearby park. Yesterday, I had made plans to meet a friend and her kids at the park. Her kids would play with Jack and Max, while Madeline ran, dribbled and kicked her ball up and down the field. We arrived at the park, and all three kids jumped out of the car, raring to go. Madeline set off, sprinting across the park to meet her teammates, while the boys greeted our friends. I grabbed our gear. I had my purse and the kids' water bottles, but couldn't find Jack's diabetes kit. Aaarrrggghhhh! I had been running late, and in my haste to leave, I had forgotten to take the D kit. I had left it at home! Panic set in. My mind began to race. "What if Jack goes low? What if he's so low he needs Glucagon? What if Jack goes high? I have no way to test his blood. We need to leave. We need to go home NOW!" I keep a kit in the car, but that kit only contains water, snacks, juice and other forms of quick-acting sugar. I do not keep testing supplies in the car. We always have his supplies with us...unless we've left them at home! "Madeline!" I yelled across the field. "I need to run home! I'll be right back!" I asked my friend to keep an eye on her, and then I ordered the boys to get back into the car. Of course, they didn't want to leave. My friend offered to watch them, while I ran home. With my stress level mounting, I couldn't leave Jack. The park is located only 10 minutes from our house, but I figured that if I left him, then he'd be at least 20 minutes without his supplies. If I took him with me, then he'd only be 10 minutes without his supplies. That extra 10 minutes doesn't seem like a lot, does it? But, so much can happen in a mere 10 minutes. Jack's blood sugar can change that rapidly. And if something had happened to him, while I wasn't around, I wouldn't be able to handle it. Now, my friend happens to be a pediatrician. So if there was anyone under whose supervision I'd feel comfortable leaving Jack without his diabetes supplies, it would be that friend. She's wonderful and I trust her implicitly. However, even the very best pediatrician in the world would not be able to accurately determine his blood sugar level without a meter. Max wanted to stay and play with his pal, my friend's son. So I agreed to let him stay while I took Jack alone, and then came Jack's protest. "That's not fair! Why does he get to stay and I don't?" Jack began to melt down. "I'm not going home, if he's not going home!" "Jack, please just get in the car and buckle up." "No! I told you. I'm not going, if Max isn't going! It's not fair!" "Jackie, please, just get in the car! Life is not fair. We're wasting time. Let's just get home and get back as quickly as possible," I pleaded. Jack's upset and my anxiety clashed. "I am not going with you!" "You are going with me. Jackie, please, just get in the car." Melt downs of this magnitude always affect Jack's blood sugar level and never end quickly. I had to seize control. I did the only thing I could. I apologized to my friend and her son, and I insisted Max drive home with Jack and me. Jack was then happy. He immediately climbed into the car, buckled into his seat and thanked Max. I felt relieved. Melt down aborted! But Max, of course, was then angry. He grumbled all the way home. He is the most mild mannered of our bunch. He eventually cut the complaints, and then I had two happy boys again. So, we dashed home, I grabbed the kit, and we dashed back. In seemingly no time, Jack and Max were sliding down slides and swinging on swings with their friends. My stress level had returned to normal, and we were in good shape. What a big to do over a little bag and a little car ride! But, all's well that ends well, right?

World Diabetes Day

Today is World Diabetes Day. Today we celebrate and honor Jack. Today 40 more children will be diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. Today we join millions of others around the globe as we recognize all of these children and adults, who will spend the rest of their lives fighting this disease unless a cure is found.

Most days, we try to make diabetes just one facet of our lives. Today, we will recognize what a big facet that is. As much as we try to instill in Jack that he is a boy with two siblings, with brown hair and brown eyes, who loves Legos and art and science and tennis, who enjoys going to Cub Scout meetings and birthday parties and the movies, and who happens to have diabetes, we also know that, out of necessity, diabetes influences his every day. He does not play with his Legos when his blood sugar is so low he can not function. He can not focus well enough to draw a picture or read about science when his blood sugar is too high. He must test his blood before eating cake at any party. He must take his kit with its life-saving insulin and other supplies to every movie, every tennis lesson and every Cub Scout meeting.

Jack is not alone. The World Health Organization (WHO) estimates that more than 220 million people worldwide have diabetes (all types combined). That number is likely to more than double by 2030 without intervention. So today is World Diabetes Day, a global holiday created in 1991 by the International Diabetes Federation and the WHO in response to the alarming rise in diabetes around the world. In 2007, the United Nations marked the Day for the first time with the passage of the United Nations World Diabetes Day Resolution in December 2006, which made the existing World Diabetes Day an official United Nations World Health Day. Diabetes education and prevention is the World Diabetes Day theme for the period 2009-2013. The campaign calls on all those responsible for diabetes care to understand diabetes and take control. For people with diabetes, this is a message about empowerment through education. For governments, it is a call to implement effective strategies and policies for the prevention and management of diabetes to safeguard the health of their citizens with and at risk of diabetes. For healthcare professionals, it is a call to improve knowledge so that evidence-based recommendations are put into practice. For the general public, it is a call to understand the serious impact of diabetes and know, where possible, how to avoid or delay type 2 diabetes and its complications. Considering that, we ask you to be aware, to take care of your body so that you can avoid type 2 diabetes, and so that you know the warning signs of both types of the disease. Diabetes is deadly, if not detected, and still often life-threatening when it is detected. We were very lucky with Jack, as not only did we detect the disease quickly, but we caught it early enough to avoid a hospital stay. For that, we will be eternally grateful. We were fortunate only because we knew the warning signs, we didn't ignore them and we sought medical attention immediately.

The warning signs* of diabetes include: • Frequent urination • Excessive thirst • Increased hunger • Weight loss • Tiredness • Lack of interest and concentration • Vomiting and stomach pain (often mistaken as the flu) • A tingling sensation or numbness in the hands or feet • Blurred vision • Frequent infections • Slow-healing wounds *These can be mild or absent in people with type 2 diabetes. If you show these signs, seek medical attention! November 14th also marks the birthday of Frederick Banting who, along with Charles Best, was instrumental in the discovery of insulin in 1922, a life-saving treatment for diabetes patients. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you Frederick Banting and Charles Best! Jack is alive because of you! As you can see above, the World Diabetes Day logo is the blue circle. Across cultures, the circle symbolizes life and health. The color blue reflects the sky that unites all nations and is the color of the United Nations flag. The blue circle signifies the unity of the global diabetes community in response to the diabetes pandemic.

Today, we unite with others. We acknowledge this disease that has profoundly affected us, and we hope you will, too.

Here's to diabetes! Here's to good health, happy days and a bright future!

Sources: World Health Organization www.who.int/mediacentre/events/annual/world_diabetes_day/en/index.html Interntational Diabetes Federation www.worlddiabetesday.org

The Clutter Corner

Anyone who's ever visited our home knows that I am a neat freak. I hate clutter. I mean I really HATE clutter. I own few knick knacks and tzchokes. My decorating style could be considered minimalistic. Dishes never sit in my sink. Newspapers and magazines never pile up. I am constantly putting away toys that the kids have scattered all over the house. Clean laundry is folded and put away shortly after exiting the dryer. I sort through the mail, while standing next to the recycle bin, tossing the junk and then immediately filing bills to be paid. If Martha Stewart knew me, surely she would be proud. Call me crazy, but I find comfort in cleanliness. Order and organization bring me calm. And yet there is one corner of the kitchen that could be considered cluttered. Martha would not like this corner. See for yourself. Those are Jack's testing supplies: his lancet, his test strips, his blood sugar meter, the napkin on which he wipes the blood from his finger and the log on which we chart his blood sugar numbers for the week. Those items sit out for all to see all the time. (Yes, that napkin, it's gross, I know. It's used repeatedly before being pitched. But only Jack uses it, and really, what's the harm?)

A drawer sits directly underneath those items, and in that drawer, we do store other diabetes supplies, like alcohol swabs, extra meters and our food scale. In theory, we could just toss the counter's contents in the drawer, too. Or we could use a nice basket to hold the items. But to make testing as easy, as fast and as convenient as possible for Jack, we allow his supplies to clutter the counter. And they don't bother me one bit. Go figure...

Sunday Funday

Today turned out to be a good and humorous day with the kids. Jack is maturing so fast and making me so proud. Today, at Sunday school, one of his classmates brought doughnuts, granola bars and juice for a snack for the entire class. All on his own, Jack chose to only eat a granola bar. "The doughnuts were 19 carbs. The granola bars were 18. The juice was 21," he told me. "If I'd eaten everything, I would've had like 60 carbs and that would have made my blood sugar go really high. I didn't want to do that. So I just ate a granola bar." I told him I thought he'd made a wise decision and that he'd made me very proud. "It was a tough decision, mom," he said. "I really, really, really wanted a doughnut." I can not get over the fact that Jack resisted the temptation and made such a good choice. That's just so...so..."not six." On top of that, his math, adding up the carb counts, amazed me, too. That's not first-grade math...at least not at this point in the academic year. In school, his math currently consists of adding two single-digit numbers, like two plus nine and eight plus eight, not 19 plus 18 plus 21. I have to say that there's a part of me that felt sad for him. I wish he could be more carefree and able to eat whatever he wanted like his classmates. In general, I don't compare my kids, but in sharp contrast to Jack, Madeline made a poor decision this afternoon. She forged my initials on her Sunday school homework. That was the first time she'd ever done such a thing...I think. But I had to laugh. First, she did a really good job at writing my initials the way I do. It wasn't as if she'd copied something. She'd just quickly signed off on her homework the way I do on her math and spelling worksheets from school. Her handwriting looked exactly like my handwriting! I mean exactly like it! I had no idea my seven-almost-eight-year-old possessed such talent! ;) Second, I find it funny that it was on her Sunday school homework, of all things, that she'd committed such a crime. Sunday school! It's where, besides at home, she's supposed to be learning to be a good person, to do the right thing, to respect others, to uphold the Ten Commandments, to honor thy mother and father, etc., etc., etc. The irony is too funny. Madeline fessed up, however. Guilt got to her. She couldn't stand it. She showed me what she'd done. She was smart enough to use a pencil and she decided to erase my "fake" initials. We, then, talked about what she'd done, reviewed her homework together, and after she shed a few tears, Madeline laughed about it with me. I don't think she'll be doing that again any time soon. But, I know, I know, I need to watch out in the future! Jack and Max also made me laugh this afternoon. They were outside on our backyard patio, riding their bicycles. Max suddenly ran into the house, zipped into the kitchen, snatched a roll of paper towels, said not one word, and then bolted out the door to return to his brother. I couldn't figure out why he'd wanted the paper towels. So I went to the back door and called out, "Hey guys, what are you doing?" I should have known better. "Nothing!" they replied in unison. "Nothing" is never a good answer. So I spied on them. They unrolled the towels to make "roads" or "pathways" on the patio. I watched as they rode their bikes over the paper towels, and I then returned to the pot of chili I had simmering on the stove, leaving them alone. A few minutes later, the boys disassembled their drag way, and Max ran into the house again, carrying the paper towels, dirty and re-rolled. Grinning and happy, he flew into the kitchen, returned the paper towels to their home, and then left before I could say a word. I unraveled the soiled towels and tossed them in the trash. I never said a word to the boys. I let them think they'd just gotten away with something. Why spoil their fun? It's now nearly 11 p.m. A little while ago, I peeked in the kids' bedrooms, as they slept. They all looked so innocent. If only they really were so innocent ... ;)

Early Onset Carb Counting

You know a member of the family has type 1 diabetes when your four-year-old son is concerned about carbs. This morning, I overheard the following conversation. Max: "Daddy, I'm thirsty. I want a drink." Gregg: "Let me get you some water. Or would you like some milk?" Max: "I want juice." Since Madeline and Jack were out of the house at Sunday school, Gregg acquiesced, grabbed a juice box out of the frig and handed it to Max. Gregg: "Okay, here you go." Max: "But, wait. How many carbs is it?" Gregg: "23." Max: "23?" Gregg: "Yep, 23." Max: "Okay, thanks." I had to chuckle. Max does not need to concern himself with carb counting, but he sees Gregg and I, and even Jack, reading nutrition labels on food and beverage packaging, and he hears us counting aloud, as we calculate Jack's insulin doses. Max's asking was also a nod to his older brother. He looks up to Jack. He copies Jack's behavior. He wants to do what Jack does. He loves wearing Jack's hand-me-downs. As he says, "I want to be like Jack." Ahh, brotherly love...it makes me happy.

"That's not fair!"

"That's not fair!" We hear it all the time, and every time, it pains us. It is the "trickle down" or "domino" effect of diabetes.

Whenever we treat Jack's low blood sugar and don't allow Madeline and Max to have some juice or candy too, we hear, "That's not fair!" But Madeline and Max do not need to eat gummy worms before bed. What's not fair is that their brother has type 1 diabetes, but that's tough to see when you're only four or seven years old.

Madeline and Jack have been taking tennis lessons. Each week, after their lesson, they exit the courts as happy as could be. They love tennis, and they love their instructor...who doles out candy to all students as a reward at the end of every lesson. A typical post-tennis talk goes like this, "Mom, look! I got a lollypop!" "Ooh, yummy! Let's save that for later," I respond, wanting to save the sugar for when it's needed, when it won't necessitate another insulin injection and when it won't cause blood sugar issues. "But, mom, that's not fair! How come all of the other kids can eat theirs now?" "You can eat yours too, but just not now." As you can imagine, that never goes over well. Why can't this teacher reward them with a high five or with a sticker? Why does she repeatedly use candy? Why does she feel the need to reward them at all? It's not as if she puts them through something traumatic or challenging.

This past week, as we were leaving the tennis complex with Madeline's friend, who also takes lessons, Madeline asked her friend's mother, "Can we have a play date or a sleep over?" Her mother kindly responded that she'd be happy to make plans, as her daughter would love to have Madeline over to their house one day soon. "Hey, that's not fair!" Jack pointed out with tears about to roll. "How come she gets more play dates and more sleep overs than I do? How come I can't go to my friends' houses as often as Madeline goes to her friends' houses?"

If only going to a friend's house were as simple and as safe for Jack as it is for Madeline... Jack can't go to a friend's house unless that friend's parent has been trained in diabetes management, and the truth is that many parents are too scared and too nervous to take on the responsibility. Plus, there is so much information to remember, even with the cheat sheets we provide and even with the ability to call us, that unless you use the information on a regular basis, it's easily forgotten, which scares us. Now, that is not to say that Jack never enjoys play dates at others' houses. He does. We do have some wonderful friends, who have been trained, who are happy to have Jack as a guest, who don't mind diabetes, and whom we trust. We also often accompany him to others' houses. But sleep overs, they're another story. We're not ready to leave him after dark, because he has so many nighttime lows and highs. Some of the toughest times to manage diabetes come at night.

I should also add that we host play dates and sleep overs, too. But Jack knows the difference and wishes he could venture away from us as often as his sister does.

Last Friday, we attended Harvest Fest, the annual carnival at the kids' school. Like most carnivals, this one featured fun food. Every where we looked, we saw someone munching on kettle korn or devouring cotton candy. "Can we get some kettle korn?...Can we have cotton candy too?" We tried to hold off. "Let's not. We haven't had dinner yet," we replied, intentionally avoiding the mention of diabetes. "But that's not fair! How come our friends can have it and we can't?"

And then we ran into friends, who graciously offered to share their cotton candy. "Want some?" the dad asked. "Please! Please can't we have some?" the kids begged. We allowed them to enjoy some, figuring eating a little from a friend's bag, rather than consuming an entire bag of our own, was a good compromise.

And then came another pal's parent, who suggested we all buy kettle korn to enjoy while passing time, waiting for Madeline and her daughter to perform in a cheerleading routine. We gave in, and then lucky for us, while attempting to open his bag of the sweet stuff, Jack spilled half on the ground. We all grabbed hand fulls, sharing and sparing Jack the carbs.

By the time Madeline's cheer performance had ended, Jack's blood sugar had spiked to 407. One clump of cotton candy and a hand full of kettle korn, and he was high. All Gregg and I could think was, "That's not fair!"

None of this stuff is fair, is it? We don't wish to be the mean parents. We don't wish to forbid our kids treats on special occasions. We don't wish for Jack to miss out on play dates and sleep overs. We don't wish for our kids to feel frequently denied. We don't wish for our kids to feel life is unfair.

We try so hard to do the right thing for all three of our kids. We try to balance their needs versus their desires. We try to enable Jack to do all the things his brother and sister can easily do. We try to remember that Madeline and Max need as much attention as Jack does, and we try to give them that attention. We try to let go and let loose when we can. We want to create good times and happy memories.

It's a fine line we walk. We must play it safe at all times. Jack's well-being depends that. Diabetes complicates on our lives on so many levels. We can't just do what we want.

It's not fair, is it? But, really, life is not fair in general, and all kids need to learn that. Unfortunately, for our kids, they need to learn it now.

The Big Day

Walk day 2009 has come and gone! It was an amazing day, at once uplifting and heartwarming, seeing thousands of people gathered for a cause that means so much to us. The Phoenix Walk to Cure Diabetes is the largest event of its kind in the world. Last year, JDRF told us that roughly 27,000 people participated in the Phoenix Walk. We don't know this year's figure, but it seemed to us that a similar number of supporters showed on Saturday. Jack's Pack boasted 160 walkers. Collectively, thus far, we have raised over $17,000. We are so very proud and grateful! We arrived around 7:30 a.m. and for the next 90 minutes, there was a continuous influx of Jack's Pack walkers. What a sight to see so many blue shirts emblazoned with our team logo! We gathered for a team photo before the Walk, but our photographer hasn't given us the photos yet. We promise to post pics as soon as we can. 9 a.m. rolled around and we began our three-mile trek. It seemed much easier this year than last year, as at any given point in the route, we knew where we were. We weren't wondering, "how much further?" as we were last year. Our little Max suprised us all. He spent about 5 minutes in our wagon, and the rest of the time, he was either walking or running. Jack also did a fine job, walking for the majority of the miles, spending time in our wagon only when his blood sugar level dropped too low. (Yes, it was a great day, but it was still a day with diabetes.) For Madeline, the event wasn't so much a "walk," but rather a "sit." ;-) Most of the time, she sat in either our stroller or wagon. She figured, "why walk when someone will pull or push me?" Maybe she's onto something! ;-) She certainly enjoyed the ride! What was neat was that walkers strolled at different paces. So along the route, we encountered and were able to walk side-by-side with many of our Jack's Pack team members. By the time we reached the finish line, we were all ready to sit down and relax...except Madeline, who was ready to run around and play. ;-) Back at our starting point on the park grounds, we enjoyed eating lunch with our friends and family. Endorphins had kicked in, and everyone was happy. A group of Tempe police men moseyed on over and struck up conversations with the kids. One of them revealed to Jack that he, too, has type 1 diabetes. He was diagnosed at age 8 and is now 30. He pulled his D kit out of his pocket, showing Jack his insulin pens and blood sugar meter. To us adults, it was funny to see this D kit stored next to a taser and a pair of handcuffs. He gave Jack a little inspirational talk, reminding him that he should not let diabetes stand in the way of his dreams. He said that when he was little, he wanted to grow up to be a police man, and there he was, an officer living his dream with T1D. One of his fellow officers let the kids play with his handcuffs. Their wrists and hands are so small that they slipped right out, but it was a big deal to these kiddos to be able to play with the real thing. Thank you, Tempe P.D., for adding some unexpected fun and inspiration to our day! An added bonus was running into a number of our D friends. While they all assembled their own Walk teams and organized their own fundraising efforts, they're really all on the same team as we are, working so very hard for the same cause. Because of our shared hopes and dreams, it felt special to see them at the Walk. The Walk was a ton of effort, a mix of emotions and a lot of fun. We are completely fatigued at the moment, but we don't care. The Walk was worth it. Jack is worth it. We'll continue to campaign and commit ourselves, mind, body and soul, until a cure is found. Although the Walk is over, our blogging is not. We will continue to write and update this site. Yep, that's right. We're hooked on blogging. Thus, until next time, take care our dear readers. :-)

October 31st

Our big day has almost arrived! We have less than 24 hours to go! We are excited! Jack's Pack shirts and goody bags have been distributed. Team directions have been sent. The only thing left to do is charge the camera batteries and load the van with our stroller, wagon and other Walk day essentials. I can't decide whether the kids are more excited about the Walk or about Halloween. They are looking forward to seeing all sorts of friends and relatives at the Walk. It will be like a party for them, and in many ways, it is a celebration, a joyous tribute to Jack and our hopes for his future, not to mention the culmination of another successful fundraising campaign. It will also be a time to connect with many of our beloved D friends. Then, tomorrow night will bring costumes, candy and more friends and fun. What a great day it will be! Many people have asked how we handle Halloween with Jack. We feel strongly that just because Jack has type 1 diabetes, it doesn't mean he can't partake in October 31st festivities. He will dress up, this year as Luke Skywalker, trick-or-treat and then come home to sort through his loot and snack on Skittles, Twizzlers, a Snickers bar or whatever he fancies. Of course, we'll test his blood sugar, limit his candy intake and give him insulin accordingly. And then all three of our kids will trade in their candy for presents that they picked out a few weeks ago at Toys R Us. They can not wait to get their gifts. We'll save some favorite candies for low blood sugar episodes and late-night sweet tooth cravings. (Mine and Gregg's! There's no better snack at 10pm than a Reese's peanut butter cup, if you ask me!). Then, Gregg will take their remaining candy into work and let his coworkers enjoy it. Or we'll send it with my mom to her office. The past two years, we have been very lucky on Halloween. Jack's blood sugars have remained in a good range, despite his excitement, running through the neighborhood and carb-laden treats. Knock on wood, tomorrow will be another happy, healthy Halloween. We hope all of you enjoy October 31st as much as we will!

Excitement is in the Air

Excitement is in the air! Can you feel it? The Walk is only three days away! We have poured our hearts and souls into our Walk campaign, working long days and late nights, writing, calling, discussing, strategizing and hoping. More than anything, we want a cure for Jack, we want a brighter future, and we want him freed from the daily difficulities of this disease. The Walk symbolizes that for us. Our campaign is winding down, but our work is not done. We have three more days of planning, prepping and fundraising. We are excited for Saturday, when we will march along with 20,000+ others, including our friends and family in honor of Jack. It's going to be a GREAT day!

Keep Out

Jack makes us laugh all the time. Today's chuckle came from a sign he posted on his bedroom door. Check it out. We didn't ask him, but we're wondering who he expects to enter his room besides his family and his friends. The boogie man? Monsters? Werewolves? Robbers? His endocrinologist? We also love his phonetic spelling. Hope this makes you smile, too!

The Secret Churros

When we talk about diabetes, we usually talk about Jack. But, the truth is diabetes affects our entire family. This afternoon, Gregg took Jack to a birthday party, which, by the way, was a drop-off party...except for Jack. There is no dropping off and leaving Jack anywhere, unless he's going to be under the supervision of someone who's been trained in diabetes management, like at school. So Gregg and Jack went off to Pump It Up to whoop it up and celebrate. The moment they left the house, Madeline asked, "Can Max and I have candy?" In comparison to other kids we know, our three eat less sweets. Is that because of Jack's diabetes, or is it because of our desire to give them good nutrition? It's both, I suppose. But when Jack's not around, we tend to relax the rules. Being the softie that I am, I often feel badly for the ways in which Madeline and Max are restricted because of Jack's diabetes. For instance, at the zoo last week, all of the kids asked for snow cones. That was the last thing Jack needed. A snow cone would have wreaked havoc with his sugars for the rest of the day. It just wasn't worth it. I inquired about sugar-free snow cones, but was told they didn't offer any. We try our best to allow our kids to enjoy treats at special events and outings, but not at the expense of Jack's health. Getting back to today...I caved. I let Madeline and Max each eat a packet of Gushers fruit snacks, something that is normally reserved for treating low blood sugar episodes. Then, I took them to Sam's Club to pick up some groceries. "Can we get a churro?" Madeline asked as we entered the warehouse. I caved again. I've never bought a churro before, but today diabetes guilt had set in, and the next thing I knew, I was at the cafe ordering two churros. I rationalized their snack by saying, "Sure, you can have a churro, because Jack will get birthday cake." All the while, I was thinking, "What am I teaching my kids here?" Life is not fair. Why should they think that just because Jack would eat birthday cake, they deserved a churro? So then I tried to back track. "Well, it's not just because of the birthday cake," I began. "It's because of Jack's diabetes, isn't it?" Madeline interrupted and finished my sentence. "She totally gets it," I thought. But always trying to be careful about the ways in which we frame the disease, and feeling exhausted and not coming up with anything better to say, I gave a wishy-washy non-answer and redirected the conversation. "Well, sort of...let's go sit down while you eat." With cinnamon and sugar covering their hands and faces, Madeline and Max devoured their treats. "This is so good!" Madeline exclaimed. "Yeah, so good!" Max echoed. It made me sad that something as simple as a churro is a big deal in our family, but it is. Even though he enjoyed a piece of birthday cake, Jack would be devastated if he knew that Madeline and Max were allowed a treat as rare and as special as a churro. "Don't tell Jack about your churros," I said to Madeline and Max. Once again, I questioned what I was teaching my kids. What was the lesson here? Lie by omission? I'm always directing them to "tell the truth" and cautioning them about secrets. But there I was telling them to keep the truth a secret. "No, it's okay. Go ahead and tell him, if you'd like...no, no, don't tell him," I went back and forth. Madeline realized I was struggling. "Mom, don't worry we won't say anything. Jack would be upset if he knew we actually got a churro." She gets it. She knows I want her to do the right thing. She knows I'm all about doing the right thing. She also knows I want to protect Jack's feelings. He is such a sensitive guy, and he already has enough situations that we can't control that leave him feeling negatively toward his disease. So this started a whole discussion about how things just aren't always black and white, how sometimes we just don't know what the right thing to do is, but still need to try our best, how we need to be sensitive to others and so on and so forth. "Some times, it's tough to be the mom, isn't it?" Madeline asked. "Some times, you want to do the right thing, but you just don't know what that is." She gets it. She's only seven, but she totally gets it. Thank goodness, she gets it.

Oh, what a night!

The Bonns had a blast last night! We held our Jack's Pack fundraiser at Chick-fil-A, which will kindly donate 20% of the evening's proceeds to JDRF. For three straight hours, from 5 to 8 p.m., the restaurant was packed with friends and family, all of whom came to show their support for Jack and our JDRF campaign. Friends from Jack and Madeline's elementary school, friends from Max's preschool, family friends, work friends, old friends, new friends, people we've never met before -- so many people came to Chick-fil-A! We don't have final numbers yet. We don't know the total number of people who dined for diabetes or the amount of money we raised. But, we do know that from 5 to 6 p.m., Jack's Pack placed 130 food orders, and then from 6 to 7 p.m., we placed an additional 99 orders. That's 229 orders!!!! Amazing!!!! The showing of support, the kindness of the community, the care and compassion of others--it all just makes us feel so honored, blessed, grateful, humbled and elated. Really, what a heartwarming event and an uplifting evening. We tried to make the rounds, going from table to table, thanking people. We know we were not able to talk to everyone, which makes us feel badly, but we hope that people understand. We both wanted to personally thank and spend time with everyone there. It reminded us of our wedding, circulating through the space, wearing genuine smiles, feeling on top of the world and wanting everyone to know how much they're appreciated...and not eating dinner ourselves! (We waited until after the event was over to get order our salad and sandwich.) If you were there last night and if we were unable to talk to you, please accept our apologies! Please know that we tried our best and were overwhelmed by the sea of famliar faces. For the kids, last night was like one play date after another with a variety of friends. Like an open house, people came and went throughout the evening. We had expected this to happen, so we fed Madeline, Jack and Max as soon as we arrived at Chick-fil-A at 5 p.m. They wolfed down their chicken nuggets, fruit and fries and then ran off to the play area. For the remaining time they were there, the kids had a constant influx of friends. What fun for them! We hope that while we raised money for JDRF, we also raised awareness. We hope at least a few people left the restaurant with a better understanding of diabetes and/or JDRF. We also hope we taught our kids a lesson on the importance of giving to the community and helping others in need. Perhaps when they are adults, they will remember nights like last night and our years of walking and they will give of themselves, too. Good friends, good food, good cause and good times! Oh, what a night!

Kids Will Be Kids

Today was a reminder that our lives are about so much more than just diabetes. This disease can be so challenging that, at times, it feels as though all we do is check blood sugar levels, count carbs, give shots and worry. The truth is that we strive to make diabetes just one facet of our lives, and today we focused on so much more. Last week, Jack begged us to order him a Luke Skywalker costume for Halloween. We couldn't resist, and his costume arrived today. He saw the box sitting on the kitchen counter, and he was excited to open it and try on his Halloween attire. The force was definitely with him! He transformed into a Jedi Knight, wielded his light saber and chased his brother around the house. Meanwhile Madeline was imagining her induction into the "Girls' Soccer Hall of Fame," winning the title of "World's Best Goalie." At last Saturday's soccer game, Madeline took over the goalie position and played hard. She blocked kicks, grabbed the ball and prevented goals. This afternoon, at soccer practice, her coaches praised her. Our little athlete heard, "Madeline, you are the best goalie we have! You were awesome on Saturday!" Madeline lit up, felt proud and then spent the rest of the day winning games, thanking fans and signing autographs in her head. This afternoon, the other family athlete, Max, decided to try a new adventure sport: garage door hanging. Yes, you read that correctly. I did say garage door hanging. The object of this sport is to hold onto the garage door for as long as one can, while the door opens and rises to the ceiling and one's mother enters into cardiac arrest. I'm not joking here. Max seriously ran to the garage door as it was rising and grabbed on for a joy ride. Up, up, up went Max, his little body dangling. About four feet off the ground, he let go, dropped to the cement floor beneath him and proclaimed, "That was awesome!" I could see our neighbor, who lives across the street, standing still in her garage, staring at us. Her mouth had dropped open in shock. "That was NOT awesome!" I said with the most stern voice possible. "Oh, yeah, it was. Mom, there was no way I was gonna bweak my head open," he said with his four-year-old's speech impediment. Call him a dare devil, a thrill seeker or an adrenaline junkie. We call him crazy, and we love him just the same. And we're grateful he's all in one piece tonight. That's our Max! And that's how some days go around here!

If you intend to walk with us or donate...

The Walk is fast approaching. It's 11 days away to be exact. We're excited to report that Jack's Pack is growing, as new walkers register daily. If you intend to join Jack's Pack too, please register ASAP. Registration is easy and free. Just click here to be taken to the JDRF Jack's Pack registration page. If you need help registering, or if you're on the fence and have questions, please feel free to email me at heidi@jacks-pack.com. The Walk wil be lots of fun. The atmosphere at Tempe Beach Park will be lively like that of a festival with live music, bouncies and costumed characters walking around. The Walk itself will provide decent exercise, not too difficult, not too easy, and it will leave you feeling happy and content, as though you've done your good deed for the day. And you will have, as you will have supported millions of people living with type 1 diabetes. We need to place our order for team t-shirts this week, so time is of the essence! I don't want to forget the real purpose of the Walk: to raise funds for JDRF. There is no cure for type 1 diabetes. Jack needs your help. Please contribute to JDRF. Donating online is quick and easy. Just click here to go to Jack's JDRF fundraising page. To all of our Jack's Pack supporters, walkers and donors alike, thank you!!!!

46

Tonight is one of those nights. Jack went to bed about 90 minutes ago, and we just checked his blood sugar level while he's sleeping. He was at 46, which is a LOW low. He needed to be woken up, and waking Jack from a sound sleep is tricky and unpredictable. Some times, he wakes up and we breeze through treatment. Other times, he's argumentative, combative and desperate to return to bed. We can't blame him. Who wants to be dragged out of bed and forced to eat or drink? Luckily, tonight he was cooperative. We guided him from his bedroom to the kitchen, where he sucked down a carton of grape juice and ate both a glucose tablet and a gummy worm. Sounds like a lot of food when you're half asleep, doesn't it? Also sounds like a lot of carbs, and it is. (26 grams of carbs for the grape juice + 4 grams for the glucose tab + 7 grams for the gummy worm = 37 grams of carbohydrates) But Jack needs those carbs when he's this low. His blood sugar level typically drops over night, so it's scary to see numbers under 50. After his sugary snack, back to bed went Jack. He was almost asleep before his head hit his pillow. Thank goodness, he won't remember this tomorrow morning...but we will.

P.S. A good friend asked for help, and we'll happily do what we can, including spreading the word. The Sojourner Center, which provides shelter and support to those affected by domestic violence, needs a bunch of items:

• blankets
• Halloween costumes
• toiletries
• warm clothing

They have roughly 60-70 kids who need Halloween costumes. Apparently, their usual donor backed out this year. Please consider donating your gently used goods to these kids and their parents.

While they really need the above items, they will take anything. Whatever is not used or needed by their families, they will sell in their Second Treasures store and use the proceeds to buy what is needed.

Donation hours: Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday from 10am-4pm and Thursday from 10am-3pm. If you need to drop off at another time, please call the Center.

For more information or to schedule a drop-off at another time, contact Beth at (602) 253-9180 - Sojourner Center, 1639 E. McDowell Rd., Phoenix, AZ 85006

Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My

The kids have no school this week. It's fall break. So today we went with good friends to the Phoenix Zoo. The weather was gorgeous, the animals were out and the kids had a blast. On the way home, the kids didn't stop talking about the various animal exhibits. All three loved "monkey village," where they were able to enter the squirrel monkeys' habitat and see them up close and personal. They also really enjoyed the mother and baby orangutans, who were playing hide-and-seek with a bed sheet. But the giraffes, elephants, zebras and other creatures delighted them as well. So did the Zoo's water park. We encountered a real live "bear" at lunch. She was sitting with another woman and their two kids at the picnic table next to ours. They filled only half of their table. We had more people in our party than our table could fit. So I asked them if they would please share a couple of seats with us. Mind you, the Cafe's picnic area was packed and open seating was limited. The bear growled, "Only with adults!" She refused to have one of our kids sit at her table. My friend and I looked at each other in disbelief. Would this mama bear have liked it if we had refused a seat to one of her cubs? Now, we weren't about to place any of our kids at her table. We figured we'd keep all our kids together at the one table, while we sat next to them at the bear's table. But still, who would force a young child to stand and eat his hot dog and chips, after being asked for help? We lucked out, as immediately thereafter another table opened up and we could easily end our grizzly encounter. Lions and tigers and "bears," oh my!

Poker Run on the Light Rail

One of our biggest Jack's Pack supporters is our friend, Jeff Brody. We met Jeff two years ago, when he was Jack's summer camp counselor. It was Jack's first summer with diabetes, and before camp began, we had no idea what to expect. Would Jack's counselors, who were college students home on summer vacation, really "get" diabetes? Would they care? Would they understand the seriousness of the disease? Could we really trust them to take proper care of Jack? Would they be capable of handling a LOW low or a HIGH high? On day one with Jeff, our fears were fried in the hot Arizona sun. Jeff took better care of Jack than we ever could have imagined. He took on diabetes like a pro, handling those LOW lows and those HIGH highs and everything in between with care and compassion. He "got it." He was an amazing counselor, and Jack had a wonderful, fun-filled, safe summer. After camp ended, we kept in contact with Jeff, and he has become a beloved family friend. Jeff has Crohn's disease, a chronic inflammatory disease of the digestive tract. Like type 1 diabetes, it is an autoimmune disorder for which there is no cure. And, like Jack, Jeff has a passionate mother, Robin, who is trying to raise funds to help find a cure for her son. On behalf of Jeff and Robin, I invite you and encourage you to participate in Poker Run on the Light Rail, a fundraising event to benefit the Crohn's & Colitis Foundation of America. The event will take place on October 25th and costs $30 per person, if you register prior to October 21st, and $35 to register thereafter. Participants will meet at 10am at the Crowne Plaza Hotel in downtown Phoenix and will use the Phoenix area light rail system to travel along a predesignated route, where at stated stops, they will draw playing cards. The object of the event is to have the best poker hand at the end of the run. Cash prizes will be awarded for the top three best hands. Sound like fun?! I think so! For more information and to register, please visit http://www.robbiegirl.com/. Please participate and help Jeff and Robin! This is such a worthy cause. Crohn's disease is a painful, debilitating illness, and the mission of the Crohn's & Colitis Foundation of America is to find a cure. Just as we want a cure for Jack, we want a cure for Jeff, too.

Frozen Fiasco

We tried a new restaurant tonight. This place is known for their burgers and their frozen custard. As we ate our dinner, we kept seeing trays of tempting treats pass us by. Sundaes, shakes, cones--it all looked delicious. It wasn't just the kids who wanted dessert!

Jack's pre-dinner blood sugar level check gave us a good number, and his actual dinner was not loaded with carbs. So we looked up the nutritional information on the custard, calculated the carbs and let Jack order away. He chose a scoop of vanilla custard topped with Oreos. As he said, "Yummy!"

We injected him with his insulin to cover the entire meal, and we went home a happy family.

Our happiness lasted for about two hours, that is until we tested Jack's blood sugar level before he went to bed. (Testing before bed is part of our nightly routine.) Much to our dismay, we saw a 320 on the meter, a disappointing high.

So, we gave him another shot of insulin to reduce his sugar level, and then 90 minutes later, long enough for that insulin to have taken effect, we tested him again. Another poke for Jack, this time in his sleep. Even more disappointing, he hadn't gone down at all. Rather, he had gone up. He was at 355, which meant giving him yet another shot of insulin and us staying awake for at least another 90 minutes.

Here's a picture of Gregg administering that shot.

Welcome to diabetes, a disease you can treat, but not control, a disease with a mind of its own. Unfortunately, this kind of thing happens all the time. We strive to take the very best care of Jack. We monitor his blood sugar level all day and all night long. We measure and weigh foods. We calculate carbs. We give him insulin accordingly. But there are days when that's just not enough. No matter how hard we try, we can't always win. There are no guarantees with diabetes.

It's now 12:12 a.m. and 90 minutes have passed since Jack's last insulin injection. We just checked him again. He's now at 330. It's going to be a long night... Crazy custard!

Finding the Good

Last night's post focused on the daily dilemmas and demands of diabetes, and as much as we dwell on the down side of the disease, we see an upside, too. Although more than anything in this world we wish that Jack did not develop diabetes, we feel grateful for the good it has brought us. It took us a while to recognize that good, but that good definitely exists. Diabetes has linked us to some amazing people. Before Jack was diagnosed, we knew no one with the disease. Immediately after his diagnosis, however, friends and family members came out of the woodwork, offering to introduce us to their friends and family members, who also have some connection to diabetes. We were shocked by how many people knew other people with diabetes. We had no idea how pervasive the disease is. So we followed up on leads and contacted everyone referred to us. We quickly found that we were not alone in our plight. We forged friendships fast, and those friendships continue today. We have made new friends along the way, too. If it weren't Jack's diabetes, we would be missing out on some great relationships. And we have learned so much from our D friends. Doctors and diabetes educators can direct your care, inform you of medical choices and advances, help you to apply those advances, answer medical questions, and provide medical advice and reassurance. Most, however, offer nothing when it comes to managing the disease on daily basis. They give little pragmatic advice, like how to treat very low blood sugar while dealing with the belligerance that comes with it, where to buy the best medical ID bracelet, what to do when you can't wake your child at midnight to treat a low, how to handle school situations, birthday parties or Halloween, or what kinds of kits work best for carrying diabetes supplies. Our D friends share tips, recipes, stories, supplies and more. This stuff is invaluable. D friends offer support as no others can. They truly "get" what we go through. Their advice, knowledge, encouragement and presence is so beneficial. We could go on and on, but suffice it to say that these D friends have enriched our lives in so many ways, and we are so very grateful for them. In addition to leading us to fabulous people, diabetes has also ignited a passion inside both of us and created a purpose. Who knew we could feel so strongly about something? Who knew we could become advocates and activists for an entire community? Who knew we had something inside of us that could help others? Who knew we'd actually have a cause we feel so strongly about? But we are committed to the cause and its community, and it feels incredibly rewarding to help others. (We don't just fundraise for JDRF, but we serve as mentors for newly diagnosed families, too. We have started a support group in our local area and organize events for families with young T1D kids also.) Besides bringing out the best in us, diabetes has brought out the best in others as well. Last year's JDRF Walk showed us what support really means. People near and far rallied around Jack, donating to JDRF on his behalf, joining Jack's Pack, walking with us, fundraising with us, offering encouragement and championing our cause. Even complete strangers came to our aid. It was such a humbling and heartwarming experience. And Jack has grown from his condition. He was reading the double- and triple-digit numbers on his blood sugar meter at age four. He was a little pipsqueak, accurately announcing, "Oh, look I'm 437" or "225" or "96." Even more wild, he was interpretting those numbers. "Ugh oh, I'm 52. I need juice. I knew I felt low...103, perfect!...I need another shot. I'm 385." Moreover, he was taking control of his disease, finding self-sufficiency and independence, as he was testing his blood himself. Out of necessity, he has matured at a faster pace than his siblings. Maybe he would have matured early even without diabetes. We'll never know. But he seems to have developed skills as a result of diabetes, and he fills us with pride as he achieves new abilities, reaches new milestones, displays bravery and evolves into a confident, capable older kid. Diabetes has really taught all three of our kids about compassion. They have learned to recognize, accept and often appreciate difference. They are tolerant and understanding of others, especially other kids with special needs and health issues. They truly care about others and show kindness. We'd like to think that's just who they are or that's just a reflection of our parenting, but we know better. Diabetes has played a role. It might sound cheesy, and it is cliche to say this, but it's also true: every cloud has a silver lining.

D Day

Yesterday was D day, the second anniversary of Jack's diabetes diagnosis. All day long, I kept wondering how many pokes and shots has Jack endured since October 8, 2007. In the evening, I finally calculated the numbers. We have tested his blood by poking his finger roughly 7,300 times, and we have given him approximately 3,650 injections of insulin. The numbers are mind-boggling, especially when you consider he's had this disease for only two years. I clearly recall the first few days after Jack's diagnosis. Those pokes and shots were the worst. Jack was terrified to the point where his little, four-year-old body shook. He would cry, he would run away, he would hide, he would cower in the corner of the room. He would do anything to avoid the pain of his skin being punctured by a needle. And yet, we had no choice. To keep him alive, we had to push through his fear and through our own fears. We had to keep testing his blood and injecting him with insulin. It was awful. As a parent, the last thing you want to do is traumatize your child or inflict pain upon him. But we were not about to let this horrible disease take Jack away from us. We cried as much as Jack in those early days. We were fortunate, though. We were able to go through all of this at home and in doctors' offices instead of in the hospital, like most newly diagnosed children. We had caught Jack's diabetes early enough to prevent hospitalization. Little did we know back then what diabetes would really entail. Diabetes is about so much more than just pokes and shots. It's about balancing carbohydrate consumption, insulin dosages, activity levels, hormones, the weather and even unknown factors. It's about trying to calculate grams of carbohydrates when no nutritional information is available. It's about attempting to find reasons for blood sugar levels, when the answers just aren't possible. It's about trying to figure out why yesterday's routines are creating different results today. It's about continuously trying to control something that just can not be controlled. It's about reacting as best as you possibly can to whatever is thrown your way. It's about worrying about your child's future health and questioning his mortality when he's only four years old. It's about chaperoning your child to a drop-off birthday party. It's about training grandparents, friends, babysitters, teachers, camp counselors and everyone else who supervises your child about diabetes management and trusting that they'll remember and take good care of him. It's about always carrying a fanny-pack full of testing supplies, several forms of quick-acting sugar and a life-saving Glucagon injection kit wherever you go. It's about freaking out and immediately turning around to go home when you've realized you've left that fanny pack on the kitchen counter. It's about needing a lunch aide at school, when no one else has one. It's about having a cell phone for emergencies at age five. It's about antiquated laws that hinder your child from receiving the medical care he needs and deserves at summer camp. It's about repeatedly having to tell your son he can't have and can't do the same things his siblings and friends have and do, because his numbers are out of range or the proposed situation wouldn't be safe. It's about telling his siblings that they can't have juice or candy, only to hear "That's not fair!" in response, when really what's not fair is the disease they don't fully understand and that's causing their brother's blood sugar to plummet. It's about staying awake until the wee hours of the morning to make sure your child is stable, no matter how tired you are. It's about wondering whether a nap is really a nap or a coma. It's about having strangers stare at you in public when you treat your son. It's about having a cause and feeling compelled to ask every person you know to donate to that cause, when you feel most awkward doing so. It's about all these things and more. Two years down, a lifetime to go...

Say "Boo!" to Diabetes

Since the Walk to Cure Diabetes takes place on Halloween this year, JDRF is playing up the whole Halloween theme. Hence the message "Say 'Boo!' to diabetes!" Playing along, I'd like to scare the heck out of this darned disease. I'm calling all ghosts and goblins, vampires and wicked witches to help me. I need jack o'lanterns, monsters, super heroes, pirates and princesses, too. I need everyone! Together, we can be frightful and spook this disease! The best way to do that is by giving JDRF a treat! All it takes is a donation of any size. Every dollar brings us closer to a cure. Please donate to JDRF today and say "boo!" to diabetes! Click here to donate. Thanks for playing along with me!

No Super Snack for Jack

People often ask us, "How is Jack doing?" We usually give a standard answer, "Jack is as well as a kid with diabetes can be." How he's doing depends on the day, the hour and, often, the minute. Here's how he's doing now. Jack's school nurse just called. Jack's blood sugar level is 358. That's high...too high. Jack needs an additional injection of insulin to lower his level, keep him safe and make him feel better. On top of that, Jack's class will celebrate another student's birthday this morning. They'll be served doughnuts for a snack. For every other student in the class, those doughnuts are just a fun treat. For Jack, those doughnuts are another reminder of his disease. Jack can't eat a doughnut this morning. His blood sugar level is already too high, and one bite of a sugary snack like that would send his sugars soaring even higher. Instead, Jack will be given a piece of sugar-free chocolate. Woo hoo! (Can you detect the sarcasm?!) After devouring their doughnuts, the class will head out to the playground for recess. Jack, however, will visit the school nurse for his correction dose of insulin. It's tough to be singled-out when you're six. That's how Jack is doing.