Tuesday, October 23, 2007

The Longest Flight

It hurts the most when it wasn't supposed to hurt. I always get flanked by emotions when it isn't particularly the right time to be emotional. It still wrenches the hell out of me when on my way up to bed i have to grab the test kit. As i run up the stairs with that little black case in my hand my throat closes up momentarily and the last few steps seem to take forever. So much crosses my mind at that point. Too much to even process. When will it ever be processed? Will it ever be something I just do? Is it the fact that i know one day will never ever have to test her again?
I cannot believe that Emma is going to have to test her blood sugar every single day for the rest of her life. I comprehend it enough to be able to not believe it.
But it is so easy. Her freshly bathed warm body distinctively relaxed and enjoying her dreams of Dora and Boots. Not a sound in her room. Not a movement other than myself pushing the test strip in the monitor and looking for the best access to her clean pruney finger.
At this point i am exploiting the fact that that this can be done fast with no negotiations.
I can't. Yet. I have to look at her before another procedure reminds me of what is or is not inside of her.
Taking the plunge and stealthily grabbing her tucked hand in one quick motion hoping she will not open her eyes to see me. but in her own way.... she then settles me. She lets me know everything is OK. She does so by volunteering her outreached hand and pointing her finger for me. Almost asking for her test.
She is such a doll. I was supposed to be the one who makes everything OK. As stubborn as she is she cannot let me. I love that little soul.
Something so routine and essential is becoming my most difficult and trying moment.

10 comments:

Christine-Megan said...

I promise, it's harder on you than it will ever be on her.

Vivian said...

Chris - You are protecting her and making her feel safe. You are an awesome dad and none of this is your fault nor will Miss Emma ever think it is. As weak as this disease makes us feel as parents, I am quite sure you will always be a hero in her eyes.
We are pushing three years and some days it is just part of our routine but others like today it is bigger than life. Hang in there, you and your wife are raising an incredibly strong and wonderful person, she will continue to amaze you. Just don't blink.

Amylia said...

Blessings to little Emma and your family. I know it was hard for my parents to give me injections and watch me in pain or worrying about me, but I am grateful for their support and love and I know it was, in many ways, just as hard and some moments harder on them during my childhood as it was on me and my sister (both t1).

I really liked your description of the glucose test last night--very touching and aptly written.

Thinking of you and E.

in search of balance said...

(hugs)

Chrissie in Belgium said...

Emma comforted you by sticking out her hand. I promise you Chris, she is telling it to you straight, these bg tests just are not that terible! You must already understand that it isn't the blood tests that are the real problem. It is the never ending juggling, all-attention-grabbingness of the disease that is worse. But you must not loose sight of the fact that it is completely possible to live a very full, wonderful life with diabetes as our 24hr/24hr companion!

Shannon said...

Emma was good about this stuff from the start. She's such a little toughy.

Those little things like the testing get me too when Brendon is sleeping and seems so vulnerable.

Penny said...

Great post, Chris.

I think when we stop letting those things bother us is when problems arise.

If it all becomes routine and part of life without the emotion, then where is the drive to push for a cure?

I draw my strength from Riley too. It sounds terrible to say, but he really is much stonger than I. Your little Emma is stong beyond her years.

Carey said...

This was a tough one to read, Chris. The management of this shitty disease will only get better though for us and our kids. Just imagine the technology advancement in five years from now. Very possible that continuous glucose monitoring will be the standard. It's not a cure, but that will change our lives.

Chris said...

See what i mean...you guys are all so awesome.
Thanks.
As you can see i/we are going through a unchartered area infused with the unknown.
It helps writing it out on "paper".

maria said...

When you say " I cannot believe that Emma is going to have to test her blood sugar every single day for the rest of her life." That is the wrong belief. I BELIEVE that one day in our young kids life there is going to be a cure. I have to believe it, that's what keeps me going. Everyone has to believe in something and I know there will be a cure before they have to grow old with this.