Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Oh versus Argh!

I had reminded my son numerous times that it was site change day.  Our movie ended and he headed off to his room. I followed a little while later to give that one last push regarding a site change. 

When I looked into his room, he was sitting on the bed with his site one hand and his other hand was poking his leg. 

"What are you doing??" I asked incredulously. 

"I am looking for a good spot. I need to find the place that when it goes in I go--Oh!Its in?  rather than YIKES! EEK! Man that hurt!"

It made sense I guess but I just look at the spot, find a place with no injection marks, clean it and jab.  Its a simple process.  He was still routing around his leg. 

"Why don't you just stab it and get it over with?" I asked. 

He looked at me like I had lost my final marble.  What planet did I come from, I am sure he wondered.  Finally he replied that it had to be just the right place. He lined up a spot and then took the site away. He closed his eyes.  He opened his eyes. He made a few faces. 

"Just count to six and BAM! Its done. Why are you clicking it a hundred times? You will wear out the inserter before you ever start." 

Once again "the look".  He explained that by clicking and inserting in the air he was loosening it up so that it would be easier when it hit his leg.  It was now my turn to look at him like he has lost a few of his precious brain cells. 

I continued to watch, wonder and press as to when he was actually going to put the site in instead of mauling his leg. After much grumbling I heard the "bang" and....

"AAARRRGGHHH! You shouldn't have pressured me. You had me hit the wrong spot!"  My son continued to moan and groan in pain as I checked to make sure the tape was in place. 

I felt rather bad (but I couldn't tell him that). I left the room and shook my head.  Each day he (or I) stab his fingers and make them bleed numerous times.  He says it doesn't hurt anymore but does it hurt any less? Every 3-7 days (his count not mine) he will stick a larger needle somewhere into his body so that he can live another day.  

I just read a blog post by Scott Johnson in which he notes that diabetes is a constant attack into every aspect of his waking and sleeping life and the only respite will be when he dies--or there is a cure.  It breaks my heart to read this. It breaks my heart to see others go through this and even more so to see my son living that same life. Diabetes is a cruel disease.  

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