Safety in numbers
My husband is pretty damn amazing. Together we make one kick-ass team. I hear stories of other T1D families, mainly families with one child with T1D and think, "yeah, my husband rocks". We're like a well choreographed waltz caring for the two kids. I can't imagine surviving this life any other way. We both do site changes and blood sugar checks, we communicate our needs to each other, and there's none of the resentment I so often hear about in other diabetes families. When one of us ebbs, the other flows. It's pretty great.
And when my husband's not around, I miss him terribly.
During the fall/winter/spring months he very rarely travels for work, but during the summer we spend many weeks apart. Every summer for the past 4 summers and on into the foreseeable future we spend our summer days in Maine. We're fortunate enough to get him for quite a few weeks in Maine, but any time apart for our close-knit family is too much. We still enjoy our time, but a key member of the family is missing and it's a great void. Our team is down a player. The kids and I are sad to be missing our best friend.
As for the day to day, minute to minute, diabetes care I've got it covered. I can swag (scientific wild ass guess) a carb count for a trip to the ice cream stand like nobody's business. (In case you're curious, a typical small ice cream cone can run upwards of 80g of carb depending on choice of ice cream!) I can even keep track of who's CGM sensor has been extended beyond the "manufacturer's suggested duration of wear" and may start tweaking out on its readings, and which of the two has a funky pump site that needs to be watched for possible infection. I can even take the often multiple nightly wake-ups to adjust for an overactive day and subsequent rollercoaster of blood sugars. But what I really miss when my "T1D partner in crime" is away is the sense of safety. The emotional toll is high when it's just one of us on duty. There are moments every day when I just need to tap out, even if it's simply because I can't take the constant stream of consciousness conversation (and I use the term "conversation" lightly, since it's typically a one way "conversation") coming from my chatty 8 year old, or the pre-teen angst emanating from the other. But usually it's for bigger reasons like last night when, no matter how many times I corrected for his high blood sugar with insulin, Ollie's blood sugar wouldn't go below 300. I kept waiting for the arrow to shift on his CGM because, SURELY after 4 units of insulin there should be some change. Before I knew it I was staring at a clock that read 2:30am with the notion of sleep a distant possibility. Eventually I saw a dip in his BG and was able to eek out a couple measly hours of sleep. The tiredness I can handle: I like my coffee black and strong. But the sense of helplessness I feel when I can't make things right for the kids is sometimes overwhelming. Marshall's really good at putting this kind of thing in perspective for me, and without him to kick me back into line I find myself falling down the rabbit hole of worry.
And then there's the worry for Marshall when he's away from us. My intellectual self knows full well that he is more than able to care for himself, of course he is! But I still worry that something might happen.
Because that's what I do. I worry. I worry enough for the both of us. I walk the delicate line of "healthy worry". And he takes things in the moment and rarely stresses when diabetes care goes awry. So, yeah, we take our turns in calculating carbs and dosing insulin. But as is the case for much of a life with Type 1, taking turns slinging insulin is only a very small part of what it means to be a good "diabetes" team. It's all that other stuff we do so well together that makes all this work. I don't say it nearly enough:
Thank you, Marshall.
