I don’t know how to put into words…

… How much it sucks to be the parent of a pre-teen/teen with a potentially life-threatening chronic illness.

It totally sucks sweaty donkey balls. (gross right? Nastiest I could come up with at the moment)

Princess Punk is going to kill me. Slowly, a teeny bit at a time, she is going to cause me to lose enough brain cells from the stress of worrying about her that my brain will cease telling my heart to beat and I’m just going to drop dead.

Yeah, because this is what a 12yo wants to deal with 24/7

We’re staying on Princess Punk as much as possible but we can’t watch her 24/7. She had a waking blood sugar (Bg) of 247 this morning, a high morning number even for her (she has been running around 150-180) so I told her to test again at school around 9-930 and if it was still over 250 to do another injection site change for her pump (even though she did one last night). She’s using her arms all the time and eventually scar tissue will build up and then ~poof~ shitty insulin delivery and she’s not getting what she needs. Nurse calls me at 11:20 and she’s 405. She apparently “forgot” to test at 9. After several text message reminders from me and a verbal reminder from The Zen Master on her way out the door. I told the nurse to have her do a site change and to be sure The Princess uses her belly and NOT her arm. At 1:30 and when she got off the bus at about 3:30 her Bg was in the 200’s. Better but still too high. Oh, and when she got home? In her arm.

“I DIDuse my belly but I wasn’t getting any insulin so I had to change it. Gawdmom….”


Totally at a loss. I don’t know how much more I can do. She has to take some kind of responsibility for her own health. She is 12 years old. She will be a teenager in a few short weeks. She’s a KID. Not an adult. Thinking about it logically, it’s ludicrous to put the responsibility of someone’s long term health and LIFE on the shoulders of someone that young.  But it is what it is. That’s life for her now. For us. All of us. And it will effect every part of her life from now until forever or until they find a cure. So we deal. That’s what we do. Someone at work said something about how they admire me, for dealing with all the shit me and my family have been through the past few years.

But that’s just it… It’s our life. It’s what we do, it is what it is. I’m bipolar. So is my mom. I deal with awful chronic pain and a fucked up digestive system from bariatric surgery and massive weight loss. My eldest daughter has a chronic illness that she will deal with for the rest of her life and if she doesn’t learn how to manage it and soon, she will end up with major organ damage and be facing the possibility of limb amputation, blindness, kidney failure and death. My younger daughter is happy and healthy but required a shit load of trying, emotional and physical turmoil and lost her twin before she even became more than just a cluster of cells. We’re broke. We live in a house that is too small (or at least too cramped) for our family and there’s no way to sell it. But we deal. We press on, we live our lives. We love each other. We can laugh together and we can comfort each other when we cry. We have jobs. We have a roof over our heads. We have each other. So everything else? It’s just shit that happens. We live with it. We work it into our lives because all of that shit? All of those things that totally suck and make things hard? They are a part of us too. They make us who we are.  It’s not to be admired. Respected maybe but not admired. We’re surviving and we’re okay and that’s our life. And all together? In it’s totality? Looking at the big picture? We’re pretty fucking lucky. So The D-Monster will NOT conquer Princess Punk. She’s too strong for that. WE’RE too strong for that. So again I say-

Fuck you Diabetes. Fuck you and your big sweaty donkey balls.

At least hers is pink… Oh shit… she HATES pink. Fuck.


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