It's been a while since I've been on here to do a blog post about our fundraising progress, and the amazing people that are calling us up out of the blue to contribute... and sometimes I beat myself up about not putting in the effort to get on here and post and write... but the reason that I haven't been able to upload more photos and post more stories is because of nights like tonight.
Tonight was/is site change night. For those not well versed in the art of T1D pump therapy, allow me to explain. Sophie's pump delivers insulin into her body via a site which is comprised of a plastic "straw" called a cannula that is inserted through the skin into her subcutaneous tissue via a needle, and kept in place with a circular adhesive "dressing." Sophie calls her site her "sticker" and so, in turn, we call it her sticker as well. This is how she gets her insulin, since her pancreas doesn't work anymore.
So, tonight we had to change her sticker, as it needs to be removed and replaced every three days to avoid potential for infection. Every time we change her sticker though, we run the risk of having a bad site, where something is wrong with the insulin delivery path into her body (bent cannula, kinked tubing, bad tubing, bad sticker... etc). The SCARY part about all of this is that an interruption in insulin delivery for as little as 5 hours can put her into Diabetic Ketoacidosis... a condition where the blood sugar is incredibly high and can lead to some pretty devastating things.
So, after another glorious sugar day all day today (with no reading below 5 or above 8 - on a roll with days lately), we check at 10:30pm as she sleeps and she's 13.9mmol/l. That's a high BG, but not a critically high BG, so we don't sweat it and leave her basal alone to see if it will come down on it's own, which it typically does. We check again at 11:40pm to make sure that it isn't a bad site, and she's 22.4mmol/l!!! That's really high! So, we decide to give a bolus to clear the high and check again in two hours.
Once we bolus her late at night, all bets are off, and we are on the watch for a low blood sugar swing for the rest of the night. She woke at around 12:30am and had to pee (the body's natural response to combating an extremely high BG) and very sweetly tiptoed in to the bathroom to do her potty, flushed the toilet herself, and after a big hug and a kiss, said thanks and rolled over to go back to sleep.
Checking her again at 2:00 am, she was now 26.4mmol/l! This is getting serious. We give another bolus, and get everything prepped for another site change. Checking again at 3:20am she's 27.2mmol/l and so, enough's enough, and we get the site change all geared up. Heidi (who is supposed to be having the night off as we alternate night checking duties) gets Sophie prepped, and I pick her up from her Disney Princess bed sheets and cuddle her close. Sophie wakes up, looks at me, smiles, tells me she loves me, and asks for a drink of water. We tell her that her sugar is really really high, and that we are really sorry, but we need to do a new sticker. She says that's ok.
With that said, we insert the 9mm needle into Sophie's left butt cheek, she winces, but doesn't cry or complain. When we are all done, we give her kisses and hugs, she looks up and smiles, says thanks, and that she loves us. It's 3:35am, she's been poked and prodded at all night, her sugar is sky high (meaning that her head likely feels as though it's being squeezed by a worlds strongest man contestant, she has an unquenchable thirst, and is dizzy, nauseous, and disoriented)... but rather than complain, cry, scream... all perfectly justifiable responses given the circumstances and how she must be feeling, she instead smiles, thanks us, and tells us that she loves us.
Sometimes, calling it complacency or whatever else fits the bill, I wonder about all of the generosity that we have experienced up to now, and how wonderful perfect strangers, acqaintances, and close family and friends can be! What makes our cause so special, to elicit the response that it has up to now?
Then we have a night like tonight. It's nights like tonight that quickly make me remember. It's sweet little Sophie, the one who puts up with so much but never complains, and how she deserves better, and how her Diabetic Alert Dog will help to eliminate all of this. It's nights like tonight that re-calibrate our perspective, make us so thankful for all of those who have helped us in our efforts, and strengthen our resolve to do our best for our Princess.