Teaching

Brain: If I was a tutor, I'd do it for free 'cause nothing pays like teaching a kid.

SuperD: And it doesn't pay the electric. Ask your mom.

Look!

The Brain: Look! I'm picking her nose!

Pinky: You're such a boy.

Tornado Alley

As I write this, the tornado sirens have sounded 11 times this evening. My family hasn't taken cover since all of the rotation has been well to the south of us. But the experts have to sound the sirens in the entire county, I guess. Nevertheless, we're watching continuous tornado coverage. Although I am incredibly sleepy, I can't go to bed until I know that the dangerous weather has passed.

When I first heard the sirens, I stepped onto my back porch to look at the sky. This is fairly typical for people who live in Tornado Alley. Meteorologists keep us "weather aware," so we know when it's truly time to take cover. I was so impressed by the heavy winds and the spooky sky that I began to film the trees bending back and forth. That's when The Brain found me and asked what I was doing. He, too, looked up and said, "It's actually kind of a beautiful day, if you don't think about it being apocalyptic."

Huh

The Brain pulled a ninja on me and suddenly materialized at the dining table. Every parent knows that silent children are usually up to no good.

Me: Brain, whatcha doin'?

The Brain: Origami.

Huh. Ninjas do origami, right?

Origami rubber band guns aren't standard issue for a ninja though.

Only a 12YO boy

The Brain wanted to play outside after school today, so I reminded him that he must complete his homework first, which includes practicing percussion. As I was sitting at the dining table with Pinky, we could hear him practicing rhythms with his drumsticks. We had a discussion about how good he is doing in band and how he's getting better. His band teacher (who is also Pinky's band director) told Pinky that he's been "kicking butt" lately in class.

So, being the good mom, I got up to go tell him how proud I am of him and how good he sounds. It's as I walk down the hallway past the bathroom on the way to his bedroom that I realize the sound of his drumsticks is no longer in front of me.

Me, at the bathroom door: I love that you're practicing, but not that you're doing it while on the toilet.

The Brain: I'm poo-ing!

Married to a diabetic

It's 1:30 a.m. and I can't sleep. SuperD just reminded me that he's not invincible - he had a diabetic seizure. He came to bed sometime after me, and I t started in his sleep. His body began to twitch a little, but not enough to alarm me at first. It feels like when your body jumps as you're falling asleep. But after a couple of times, I began to get suspicious. It's then that you skip the glucose meter and go straight for some sugar. Every second counts. I grabbed a CapriSun while he could still swallow. By the time I returned to the bedroom, his body was convulsing every couple of seconds, over and over and over. He drank the juice and then rolled himself off the bed and onto his hands and knees on the floor. And then we waited for the sugar to kick in.

Waiting is the worst. How long do I wait? Does he need another CapriSun? Can he even still swallow? If I leave his side to get another, will he try to move and hurt himself? Should I skip the sugar and go straight for the Glucagon pen? Are the kids still asleep? Should I shut the door so they don't see this and get scared? Do I wake Pinky and ask for her help? Where is his Glucagon pen anyway? Should I go look for it or just go get the Brain's pen? Do I give it in his thigh or his hip? Can I hold his leg still long enough to inject it? Will the needle really go through his shorts? If I jab him in the rear, is he going to kick me? Is he getting enough oxygen? How long do I let this go before I call 911? Can I cry now?

I've never had to administer glucose from the pen. I've prepared it but never actually given it. I panicked a little. I mixed the solution, drew back the syringe, and it filled with bubbles. Frantically, I flicked the syringe to get the air to the top. Again and again, I flicked, pushed the air out, and drew it back again. Finally, I settled for a slightly smaller dose with less bubbles. As I grabbed SuperD's leg, I told him what I was doing, and he stretched his leg out for me as best as he could. I pinched his skin, took a deep breath, and jabbed it in. I guess I had been prepared for him to yell out or fight me or kick me. But there was no change - he kept convulsing. And the waiting began again.

I tried to reassure myself that his body had what it needed to return to normal; it just takes time. 

The convulsions began to lessen with more time in between them. He lifted his head off the floor and put it on the bed, and for the first time, I could see his face again. His skin was beet red, and he was sweating as if he had just had a workout. In truth, I guess he had. Just to be sure his blood sugar was returning to normal, I made him drink another CapriSun. It was then that he began to talk again. His memory of the event was foggy. He wondered why he was on the floor. He said his left thigh was sore. He asked for candy and some ice water. I brought him both and a towel. The sheets were soaked from where he had laid his head down. 

Fifteen minutes after it was over, I finally checked his blood sugar - 58. Normal is 70-150. We wondered how low it must have been during the seizure. 

So here I sit. In bed. Awake. Unable to sleep until I know he's back in the normal range and won't go low again. It's been thirty minutes now, and his blood sugar level is up to 121. I still don't think I'll be able to sleep for a while. It's going to be a long day for both of us. In the meantime, he's beside me, snoring. Yeah, I won't be able to sleep any time soon.

You know it's bad when...

As I was driving the Brain home from school today, I saw from the corner of my eye that he was making a gagging motion, as if he was coughing up a hair ball. I asked if he was okay. He said, "Yeah. I just caught a whiff of my armpit."