Wednesday, April 27, 2016
Flourishing with T1D
Recovering from food poisoning, I sat in my comfy chair with my blanket, sipping a cup of broth, looking out our front windows at the beautiful view of the mountains in the near distance.
Selah skipped in and kneeled down in front of my footstool (which is command central for all things diabetic). It's where we keep the girls diabetic 'go bags' with their insulin, glucose meters, snacks, etc for when we are out and about.
Upon kneeling down she grabbed her meter, looked at me, and said, "I feel a bit low and I have a blood drop after resetting my CGM." My heart swelled.
Pride for how independent she was. How smart she was. How diligent she was.
Sadness for the fact she HAD to do this. That her blood sugar was dropping making her feel less than great and therefore knowing she needed to check to see what her blood glucose reading was.
She was correct. 60. A juice box should do the trick.
Finishing her juice, she was off like a flash to continue her board game with Elijah.
I just sat there and watched her. She knew what to do. How to do it.
She knew she needed fast acting carbs. She even knew the correct amount for her given blood sugar.
I'm glad she's becoming so independent with her care. It helps this mama's heart as she grows and gets closer - day by day - to that time when she'll have to venture out on her own. When she'll not have Techno and I just down the hall to check on her, wake her up, remind her to check, to treat.
It's amazing the variety of emotions that erupt from such a simple task.
There she was, poking her little finger to elicit a blood drop in which she'd adhere to the test strip in her meter. Allowing a reading of her blood glucose levels to appear so she could determine the right course of action to help keep her little body functioning, healthy.
As she sat there I saw a young lady emerging. Strong, independent. I also saw that little toddler so shy and sweet yet so feisty. A teary eyed smile crept across my face.
I wish she didn't have this path to take, this cross to bear. But... she does. I'm glad to see her embracing it. Living it. Persevering through it.
Diabetes isn't controlling her, she's controlling it. Yes, some days are hard. Some days diabetes wins. Too many highs; too many lows. However, most days, Selah wins. She lives. She thrives.
I know we have many years before she's 'on her own' but watching her each day take ownership of this disease that resides within her, makes the thought of her being out from under our wings easier. I know dangers still exist. I know struggles will erupt. Yet, I trust she will continue to flourish, to persist. In just the last year, at such a young age, I've already watched her blossom. The sky is the limit in the years to come.
She's strong. She's determined.
She will continue to tackle this beast within her.