Archive | March 2012

rough week, but thankful we have made it this far.

I had made notes late last week that I wanted to write on divine design and timing…but life had another plan. We have had a rough week so far, but before I even get there I want to start off first by sharing some excellent news. I want to try to recognize the good with the bad.  We have surpassed our halfway mark in the entire cost of our D.A.D!  Which is completely amazing considering we have only been fund-raising since about the 23rd (ish) of February (one full month is all)!  So my family is totally blown away, in complete amazement.  It is just crazy to think of all the people backing up 100% every single day.  Thank you to all of you who rally around us! We are blessed, even when life is rotten, we cannot deny it.

So now on with the bad (or, depressing) news.  I normally do not like really thinking about moments like this, because they do stink and we do not like them…but then at times they also make me more appreciative (they make me seek the good in it all).  We have been battling such nasty numbers out of the blue for no reason other than puberty and the fact that diabetes just sucks at times.

Saturday night, (hoping it was just a fluke) we were up late into the night just to bring down Kinzie’s blood glucose and then when we went to bed, we were up on and off to check and correct to avoid a large buildup of ketones. So Sunday morning comes and we are unlucky enough, despite our efforts, to ward off ketones.  Still manageable, but they were there.  I didn’t want to stay home from church as I missed the Sunday before due to Kinzie having a slight tummy bug.  So to make sure she was safe, okay, in range, etc. she joined me in all of our classes.  The poor thing just kept falling asleep on and off throughout all of our lessons.  It breaks my heart; this is probably how she is at school and I just don’t see it at times. Got home, and it was still nasty, so we dose, push fluids, set change, extra injection via syringe…the whole kit and caboodle hoping it was just a blood clot not allowing insulin to be absorbed.

Sunday night it went completely out of control…skyrocketing well after dinner, we would correct to no avail.  Set change, extra doses via syringe, new vial of insulin hoping insulin potency had just declined…to no avail.  Add another frustrating late night with little sleep.  I changed basal rates, I:C ratios, ISF, etc.  helped a bit, but not enough change.  Ketones present. Monday, same song and dance…sleepless night, high BG, more corrections, insulin, set changes, etc.

Tuesday by around 4 p.m. we had been successful of flushing out ketones! Yay! We were able to get Kinzie out of the house a bit and spend some much needed time with her grandma, shopping for awesome fabric for Mima to make her an insulin pump pack. And then BAM! We were hit it crazy high out of the blue for not reason or rhyme.  So again we followed suit and treated as trained and followed intuition.  Adjusting many settings again.  Add another crap-tastic night and crazy blood glucose to the roster and one very tired, overwhelmed girl.  Breaks my heart and wears me down.  Pancreas failure!

So today we have faced the same beast.  We have adjusted, changed sets, changed settings, extra insulin, etc.  I wrote to our endocrinologist nurse, pretty much already knowing the answer…hormones) pleading that I am an idiot missing something and doing something wrong.  No, I was reassured we are doing everything spot on.  So I jump her basal all up dramatically, change ISF dramatically (more than ever before) to get ahead of the highs which is sure to be followed by lows which will require more fine tuning to find her niche for the moment.  So now we wait…wait for it to help…wait for it to fall…wait for it to rise…wait.

Today, during our site change, Kinzie just had a complete melt down.  She didn’t want to change sites again, didn’t want another injection and didn’t want to even download her pump info to search the trends.  She was defeated. She curled into a ball and just crawled onto my lap, bawling; trying to hold it back but unable to keep anything in any longer.  My daughter was just devastated, overwhelmed, tired, sad, mad…which is a point we visit on and off.  It is part of this disease and a part I absolutely dread.  So I did what any mother would.  I held her tight, making sure she knew it was a safe place to fall apart and cried silently with her…tears would not stop.  It is such a struggle of mine to watch and not fix.  I will never understand how to fully do that; and that is okay because one day we will know why.

After she cried, she just looked at me and told me she didn’t want to go to school, she didn’t know what was wrong, she hated diabetes, she is tired, she is mad, she is overwhelmed and just sick of the constant.  Which, my response is that is completely fine, you can be all of those things, and it is okay.  Every human on the planet experiences that to some degree. On the inside I was just in turmoil…what can I do to fix this, how can I rescue her, and what can I offer to take her burden?

So we are in limbo on what to do…encouraging her to really think it through before she for sure makes the decision to stay home the remaining of the year (which, to be honest, I am completely open to.  Whatever she wants, whatever she needs.) We then talked about things we are thankful for.  Like being able to walk, talk, laugh, the family and friends in our life, the fact that medical advances happen every day, our medical team, our diabetic alert dog we are in the process of getting…we went on and on.  We came to a conclusion it is okay to be sad, angry, mad, tired, overwhelmed but made the agreement that she needs to respect her body even in those moments and treat its needs entirely as her body needs that respect and deserves it.  Any time in the past when she needs a ‘diabetes’ break she simply turns it over to me and I do all carb counts, injections, changes, BG checks, dosing and she just kicks back and doesn’t think about any of it…and it helps.

I know we have visited this place before, so I know we can work her out of it.  I have hope that it will work and can work.  So husband was able to come home from work early (which he had no clue as to what was even happening at the moment…and he was very much needed at home.)  It was an instant relief when he surprised us and walked through the front door. So today, we rallied around Kinzie.  Today we lifted her and shared her burdens.  Today, we gave more to her and let her feel complete support.  Today, we focused on the fact that it is okay to have a complete ‘diabetes sucks and I didn’t sign up for this’ type day. Sometimes we just need that outlet.

So we gathered up the kids and started heading out of the house, getting her out and just refocusing.  To our surprise her best friend was in the driveway.  She came over after school with a rose in a vase and a card just because she felt Kinzie needed it.  Kinzie just broke down and cried again.  What a blessing her best friend has been, and how in tune is she? On a very very very rough day, her friend stepped up and lifted Kinzie selflessly.  She has such a great capacity for compassion and love, she is a very sensitive girl and we are one lucky family to have her in our life.  We love her and view her as a part of us.  So we took her best friend with us and we headed out the door.  We stopped at the dollar store for the girls to just get a few little toys and word searches.  We ate dinner the earlest we have ever ate, hoping that we can get her to bed at a decent hour.  It felt good. 

She was in the back of the car laughing, talking and working through (once again) her grief.  It was just what she needed.  Her amazingly compassionate and very loving best friend rescued her today. I think we can learn a lot from children in their capacities for compassion, forgiveness, love and acceptance. 

So here we are, 6:00 p.m. and all is well in our home.  We didn’t have our evening rush because we were able to start that routine earlier.  We didn’t have that immediate rush of addressing any issues of the day because they were addressed earlier.  It was much needed.  It was much appreciated. It was much inspired. It gets so challenging in the mornings and evenings as there are 10 needs and goals to be met and no time to do so accurately.  Today, it was relaxing.

Even in our bigger storms, we will receive respite care and nurturing.  Even when we are to our limits we receive all through the divine promptings promoted through others. Even when we feel cursed, there are a thousand other reasons to feel blessed and thankful.  Today, I am very thankful for compassion and love.  I am thankful for time and timing.  Today we were able to avoid our evening chaos routine and lift Kinzie when she needed us the most.  Today…we beat diabetes again.  Today we won.  Today, even though I would have loved to categorize it as awful, it ended as beautifully inspiring. 


Communication, it’s a beautiful thing!

Communication…it is a beautiful thing.  Too bad I can pretty much suck at it!

I want to visit a great example of communication break down.  Ahhh, those words alone sting a little!

The end of last month (March) my wonderful and very helpful husband filled Kinzie’s prescriptions at the pharmacy.  I was busy one Saturday so he took it upon himself to help me out and refill everything.  He called me and told me not to worry and he will take care of it. This would be the first time, since diagnosis, that I didn’t refill our scripts. Yes, I am just that controlling.

How nice is he? Every little thing helps, every little thing I can take off my ‘to-do’ list counts!!! I need to work on letting him take more responsibility in everything, but it is such a struggle.  I know I know what to do and when to do it.  I have a system down, I am confident in my abilities.  I naturally research and learn and progress. I take it as a challenge to do better for Kinzie every day.  My job as her pancreas is a very important job.

Fast forward until now…every month I go through our ‘supply’ cupboard where we store all of Kinzie’s supplies (except of insulin of course).  I experienced a brief moment of pure anxiety and possibly a what I would describe as a minor heart attack, when I discovered we had one bottle of glucometer strips left!!! That shouldn’t be!!! Those suckers cost over a hundred dollars for just 100…and we use 350-400 a month, insurance only helps pay for 300.

I have worked diligently the past year trying to build up a ‘stock’ of supplies.  With any extra money we get I buy things here and there as diabetic supplies are pretty darn expensive.  It just didn’t make any sense how we were running so low!!!

So I did some investigating.  In complete panic mode, I went through everything in the cupboard, fridge, receipts…etc.  This is what I found…My husband neglected to tell me he only could fill our ketone strips at the moment and had to wait to fill the rest in 4 days.  He assumed I would just realize it when he didn’t put things in our cupboard. I didn’t even think to double-check.

So I thought it had all been taken care of, while he assumed I would take care of the rest of the supplies on another day. Communication…we have been together 13 years, you would think we have that down to a ‘T’.  No, we don’t we just assume the other is on the same page as we are.

So there we were, my stash depleted and my spirits squashed, as I was beyond excited how well I had built up our stash.Lesson learned the hard way…communication is key! We simply cannot read each others mind! In the moment I was very upset and felt defeated, sad, angry, (and every other emotion a pancreas would). Now, looking back, I realize that it was prime opportunity.  As I lost out in an entire month supply and used a great deal of my stash for emergencies, I realized that we are in such a hurry sometimes we forget to communicate even the greatest of details.

So prescriptions were refilled and I have set a goal to build up a 3 month emergency stash within the next 6 months.  It isn’t an easy task, but it is possible.  Another goal: communicate.  Even when I feel like people are on the same page as me. It doesn’t matter how well they know me, they cannot read my mind.

I am thankful that my husband takes the initiative to try to help take many tasks off my shoulders.  I am thankful he is so supportive and nice.  I am thankful he is patient even when I get worked up.

So my dear friends, take it from me…after wasting well over $500 dollars this month and missing out in insurance helping to fill our scripts so our emergency stash stayed put…COMMUNICATE efficiently and effectively in all aspects.  Despite what we may think, there are no real mind readers out there! ;0)

another brick wall…better wear a helmet next time

Hitting a brick wall this week, weight of the world just smacked me in the face.  Wake up call? Perhaps.  Reality? Most definitely. Something I have avoided? Absolutely. I knew we were fighting an uphill battle, I knew the reality, just wasn’t aware of our actual place.  I wasn’t open to receive where we were.

I try to be upbeat, I try to make sure to always remember there is a light at the end of the tunnel.  I try to be vigilant, but I do not catch it all.  I know we are not the first to experince this, and hopefully we will not be victims to it. Funny thing is I ‘blogged’ on the subject in broader terms not long ago, and it didn’t quite hit home.  I was only able to see it when I was able to step back and away and reflect.  Reflection is a good thing.  Reflection has a purpose.

After my get away and spiritual ‘re-fuel’ this past weekend, it is clear to me how much I do not know my husband anymore.  It is clear to me how much we suffer and sacrifice just to keep going.  It is obvious we are so different and our place in this world has changed dramatically without our permission.

Our tactic is to simply conquer and divide in order to survive… something we pay dearly for. It seems like there isn’t time in the day left for anything else.

As our life changes and its need grow, we try to evolve and keep up, but sometimes it is impossible.

At some point I have to realize that something has got to give.  We are going 90 miles an hour, with no end in sight… and to be honest I am one worn out woman.  I try to keep up, I try to do my best, but at what cost?  Some nights (well, most nights) I feel like my husband and I are on such different pages we only get to give each other a ‘high 5’ in the hallway in passing.

Our bed times are pretty much at different times (sleeping even different schedules when need be) as someone has to be up late with Kinzie and do the overnight checks (it doesn’t make sense both being completely tired and worn out). We sometimes get to eat dinner at the same time (with great efforts put forth everyday in order to make this goal.) Our morning schedules are not even close to the same. And when I am lucky I see him for 30 minutes at lunch.

I caught myself thinking ‘who is this man who functions without me?’  There was once a day where we didn’t want to/couldn’t function without each other.  It is like I woke up and all of a sudden everything we once were had changed.

In the middle of redefining our selves, we didn’t redefine our relationship.  We are defiantly stronger individuals since diabetes claimed our territory, but I cannot fully say we are stronger as a couple.  We do what needs to be done out of pure necessity…that is it.

My skills are focused on being a mom and nurse…24/7; trying to be good at both those roles so my children do not suffer. I forget that Joey also needs a wife to listen to him, to understand him, to remember him.  And I do a terrible job at that, not on purpose, it has just played out that way.

Joey has moved on, trying to find his role in this all.  His best friend (me, believe it or not), isn’t available all of the time.  My spare time devoted to keeping Kinzie healthy, which leaves Joey in the shadows wondering where he fits in and what his actual role in it all is.  He stands back giving me as much space as possible, only because he isn’t sure what else to say or do.  Still stuck in a breathless state…since his daughter’s quality of life was compromised, anticipating our next move.

How did we not catch this sooner? Where do we go from here? How do we fix what we can in order to fit our life around its unique needs? Not very many variables in our life are flexible.  We have to work, kids have to go to school, we have to treat T1D with everything we possibly can to keep Kinzie healthy and happy, we have to give all our children love and try to balance their needs too, we have to do night checks, and we have to keep on schedule even when life veers from it…we simply have to.

Sometimes I want to scream, even when I know it won’t do me a bit of good.  Where was our say in this all? Where was our choice?  I guess that is why it is called a trial.  Sometimes we don’t get to ask for a do-over or get to have input. Sometimes it is what it is and we only get to choose how we deal with it. There are no instructions; there are no hints or suggestions.

I am so glad that I had my weekend to purely reflect on life with no other responsibilities (wow, one night can really open your eyes!)…because what if it was almost too late? What if we didn’t stop to think about us?  What if…? So we now have another thing to add to our list…us.  Plain and simple, us.  We need to find us, find out how to mold our life around us as much as possible.  Find out how to change what we can when we can’t change other things we have no control over.  I thought we were finished redefining our life, but truth be told, we only redefined what we needed to in order to survive.  Now that we are in the here and now and getting a hang of life…we have to redefine every little thing has been tossed to the side in order to just make it to where we are.

Fun, right?  Sometimes putting in the extra effort seems impossible.  Sometimes I feel so drained that I do not want another worry on my shoulders…sometimes I just let the devil in a little too much where he disguises the little things and leads me to believe it is okay.  Sometimes we need those wake-up calls. Sometimes I am thankful for wake-up calls.

So our journey begins… redefining us; as a couple, as a family, as a cohesive unit working together towards a positive goal. I know we aren’t the first to have to deal with this, so I know it is possible.  I know we are strong enough to do it; we just have to know where to start. No more survival skills, now we have to pull out our ‘living’ skills.  Not sure where my ‘living’ skills have gone, but I am sure I can find them once more. What terrifies me the most is failing, but I cannot fear failing if I never try.  What once seemed like a full plate is now ‘going back for seconds’.

routines can be time bombs

I feel the need to write on a facebook status I have avoided since I wrote it a year ago. I avoid it because it scares the ever living love out of me and brings to reality one of my biggest fears…something I fight to avoid every day as Kinzie’s main care provider.  Type 1 diabetes can be deadly…in more than one way.  Insulin overdose is a huge reality, as even the smallest miscalculation can be detrimental.  I hate reading the following, but feel an overwhelming sense to do so.  It can happen to anyone, and in fact is quite common.  Slow down, take your time, calculate correctly, double check…and double check again.

For those of you who do not know, type 1 diabetics when doing MDI (multiple daily injections) instead of the pump, take 2 different types of insulin; a fast acting and slow acting insulin.  Slow acting insulin is a larger dose taken one time a day that acts like ‘basal’ rate in your body for 24 hours.  It helps keep your BG in target; it is in place of what your pancreas should be doing…releasing insulin throughout the day to keep BG in check.  Fast acting, acts fast, does fast corrections and is the insulin you use to cover carbohydrate consumption.  FAST acting being key! Insulin is a high alert drug because you dose in units (which is very small amounts) and even being the slightest off can mean so much.  In our case, Humalog was Kinzie’s fast acting insulin and Lantus was her slow acting insulin.

The following entry was on March 16th, 2011…A night I will never forget.  It was a night we were definitely being watched over…teaching moment for all.

“serious life or death mistake made tonight =(. In the hustle and bustle of the night i was changing chlo when kinz drew up her lantus. sure enough she injected it and before we knew it she plumeted~yeah…it was her fast acting she drew up.”

The following were comments under my status:

“Oh no! Is everything alright now?

wow, that is scary Jes! Hope she’s okay!!

ME: if she didnt feel herself dropping so fast this situation could have been deadly. I AM THANKING MY GOD TONIGHT FOR KEEPING MY DAUGHTER ALERT ENOUGH TO REALIZE SHE WAS SUPER LOW AND TO CHECK. We are reversing the humalog (countering it with carbs)…and learning a lesson to slow down and use this as a huge teaching moment. Oh my. We always double check~ but tonight we neglected to follow our routine. We are so very blessed. Counting my blessings twice tonight.

Oh…scary. I hope all is okay!

You are so amazing and you have taught and educated her well. Knowledge is power. So grateful HE is watching over us.

You are one strong mama!! Idk how u keep it together. I would be a blubbering idiot. Keep up the good work mama!!! And I hope kinzie is A-OKl!!!

And kudos to Kinzie!!!

Oh my goodness! So thankful you guys have educated yourselves. Awesome job Kins! And thank God for protection.

‎(((((Hugs))))))) to you all. How scary.

ME:  All is good…got her up and stable and she is amazing!!! Thanks everyone. I just keep thinking ‘what if she would have slept 1 more hour …’ I can’t go there because it was far too close to a reality. Hug your lovies tonight and may your heart soften for those who you are at an impass with… Night everyone, I am laying my head on a pillow–but not before I thank God, again, for blessing me with my life and my family’s lives. May we make every second count and not take for granted any moment we share whether it be a trial or a triumph.


Holy cow Jes!:( I am so. sorry! I am soooo glad everything’s ok. I love you guys so much. I’m thankful you and joey have worked so hard to teach Kinz and grateful she’s learned so much. She’s pretty amazing:) you all are!

How very scary! You have done a wonderful job at teaching her and preparing her to fight this battle along side you! Kenzie is an amazing lil girl to of handled this situation God has given her and conquering it day by day! BIG HUGS !”


Now many of you are probably thinking, oh well, easy fix.  No, we got lucky.  She went to bed, fell asleep (night time lows never wake her up) and I didn’t think twice about checking her.  I wouldn’t have checked her for 3 hours since her BG was in range and beautiful.  She woke up less than 40 minutes of falling asleep and was already in her 50’s….she had more than half fast acting insulin on board still…and it would be in her system for a total of 3 hours.  When she got up she was confused, emotional, shaky…it was because of how quickly her BG was nose diving. How she woke, I will never know…but I know I owe that night to my Heavenly Father…He was watching us, He was protecting us.

50 is a low blood glucose…and her BG was dropping even further.  Many people have seizures from BG in 40s and 30s and then death.  We were not far from that point.  Another reason why we NEED a diabetic alert dog…another reason why I cannot WAIT to have on with us, watching over her at night.  Another reason I am a God loving, not fearing woman.

Another thing I am thankful for is my training….I knew what needed to be done once the mistake was caught…and it had to be done quickly…her life was depending on it.  Her BG was dropping faster than she could eat.  I knew I could calculate the humalog she took to her carb:insulin ratio and get her to have enough carbs in her system to counter act the insulin.  It wasn’t easy, but we did it.  I have had to do the exact same thing in homes of many of my patients…thank goodness I had experienced this before.  Thank goodness I had a clear mind, thank goodness is all I can say.

I still cry thinking of that night, because even though death is a reality to all of us every day, it is especially a reality having to fight Type 1 diabetes…that night was magnified by 1,000.  Death was knocking on our door.  We could have been next in line.  The smallest of things can make the biggest difference.  We got too comfortable in our routine, I was busy and trusted that Kinzie could do what she did on her own…I usually hovered but knew she had done it 100 times before.  The problem with this is with routine often times you get a robotic action…you do what you do without thinking.  YOU NEED TO THINK.  YOU NEED TO BE VIGILANT.  Do not let routines cloud your judgment.  Learn from our mistake.

Teach yourself…know what to do ‘in case of’…continually seek new information.  Continually educate yourself ever single day.  Be better, get better, know better.

I think this lesson can be applied to every day life.  When you know better, you do better.  Do not think that knowing ‘enough’ or doing the minimum is good, because it isn’t.  Don’t think that someone will just come up and enlighten you when the time is right or when you need to be enlightened…that is your job.  Do not be afraid to take the initiative and ask questions and seek those answers.  You will never know enough, you will never know too much.


I am on a get-away with my sister, mom and our wonderful friend…seeking inspiration, energy, renewal and balance.  This is the first time I have left Kinize since diagnosis like this; my nerves are right on edge, but I can do this!!!  This post, oddly enough isn’t about diabetes. It is about inspiration.

Sitting at our conference listening to Jenny Oaks Baker perform “A Dream is A Wish Your Heart Makes” one word came to my mind…Inspiration.  I could see and feel how much she loved playing the violin, how much she loved music.  Goosebumps spread over me.  Inspiration.  Many people who do great things are usually inspired in some shape, form, or fashion.  Inspirations come in many different forms.

I then started to think about greatness.  And that word brought to mind my children and how great they inspire me, every single day.  I can see so much ‘greatness’ in them.  I can see their potential and all of the greatness they have to offer this world.  I get overwhelmed when I think about the possibilities the future holds for them and how many people they can inspire.  Such big spirits in tiny bodies.  They were sent here to do greatness and inspire people; starting with me.

I believe that we, as mothers, are granted a gift the first moment we meet our children; we are allowed a vision that shows us their purpose and great potential here on earth.  We are granted that gift so we can be inspired to help harvest the ‘greatness’ and passion in our children.  We are the first ‘cultivators’ in their life. Our job is to help cultivate that hunger for greatness and sensitivity to inspiration.

Many times when I am honored to be surrounded by an inspiring moment, my children encompass my thoughts.  I immediately think “they are capable of that, they are capable of making others feel like this.  They have that power.”  For example, I know that Jared will create a movement of kind acts, he is capable of such greatness. I can feel it in his presences.  I see this because as their mother, I have been granted that wonderful gift to see all possibilities.  It fills my soul and gives me the drive to be better, do better.

Our mission as mothers has been inspired.  Our roles were created with inspiration.  We are the ‘see’ers’ for our families and the cultivators for potential in our children  This is why each mother has been granted  intuition when it comes to their child’s specific needs.  We can relate the ‘greatness’ we see to our children and help them harvest it.  Our role is perhaps the most important role in their life.

When you are inspired, it isn’t by coincidence,  it is by divine intervention.  Whether you recognize it and choose to act on that inspiration is up to you.  Do not let those moments pass you by to only regret it and dwell on ‘what if?’. You all have inspired me, and I try to find a way to act on that inspiration every day…I may not accomplish that task all of the time; but it is in my daily thoughts and goals.

Don’t Be

Don’t be…

After a wonderful (but challenging) experience in Santa Fe at Kinzie’s dance competition I have decided to write a post about being sorry…Simply because, you shouldn’t be.

We had a little bit of a hectic weekend ‘chasing’ lows (as one ‘D’ mom put it).  Many of her dance team mates and other dancers with the studio witnessed a lot of what Kinzie has to do to stay healthy.  It was nice to see interest and people not afraid to ask questions.  She had support and was able to do a lot of teaching (which is a great thing). She much rather prefers questions and support than odd stares and whispers. She isn’t a contagious disease and doesn’t like being treated like one.

Many times we heard the comments “I am sorry you have to do that.” or “I feel so sorry for you.” While those comments are coming from a position of empathy and compassion, my response to that is “don’t be.” We do not need that and cannot benefit from those comments.  They do no one good.  Don’t feel bad for our situation, because we are doing great.  We do the best we can.

You might think that is harsh, rude or odd.  I say this simply because no words, actions or comments will ever make this go away.  There is nothing in this world at the moment that could offer a cure. It is what it is.  We deal.  It is a part of us, and if you are always told ‘sorry’ it is easier to pity yourself, allow excuses or feel different.

We are the same as anyone in the fact that we have trials too.  Our trials may be different, but they are our trials; just like your trials are yours.  We are stronger because of it.

I think it is a natural reaction to use the word ‘sorry’ when you see someone else’s struggles or witness their trials first hand…but the fact is, don’t be sorry.  You cannot control it, and we cannot change it.  We are who we are and being sorry just makes us feel like you pity us, that you feel like you need to feel bad for us and think that what we have been given sucks majorly…which it does at times, (and we do not want or need a reminder.) We are troopers! We got this!

Just be there, just support us, and just walk along side us not above or below us.  Treat us as equals; hold us to the same standard.  Don’t ever think we need a hand out, we just need friends who offer understanding.  We feel the need to raise awareness and spread the word, like that is a part of our purpose with this disease. But we do not feel the need to have a crutch.

So when you have the urge to tell someone you are ‘sorry’ they have to deal with what they have been given, keep in mind that if it cannot change them, the best thing to do is help keep positive momentum.  We don’t need reminders how rotten life can be, because we find being optimistic makes all the difference in the world. We have enough ‘sorry’ moments for ourselves and it just never gets us anywhere.   Don’t be sorry, be empathetic and aware.


Bragging rights

You would immediately think I am referring to my children with the words ‘bragging’ rights.  Nope…I am talking about you! My family is surrounded by some very amazing people; people who set the standard for everyone around them. You are people who listen for other’s needs and go straight to work on those needs without hesitation.

You know who you are, this post is for you.

I know I have said thank you, I know I have said that I love you, I know I have said we couldn’t have done it without you…I have said this, because, every single word is true.  Because of you all, this has been possible.

Not quite 3 weeks into our fundraising to get Kinzie her diabetic alert service dog we have raised over $6000.  I cannot believe it.  Because of you, passing the message around, your compassion, your understanding, and your empathy…we are facing the real possibility of getting this dog paid for in less than 6 months.  How amazing is that?

This disease can bring the darkest hours, but has also let me witness so many miracles and brought a new outlook in life to me.  I know we are never alone.  I don’t want to repeat myself; but I am finding it harder and harder not to.  There simply is not a perfect word to share…thank you is just not enough.

From day one, I have had the urge to stop people on the street and just educate them on type 1 diabetes…I am fighting that same urge, but also wanting to tell people how lucky we are.  How loved we are.

When I look at Kinzie I just see a very courageous girl.  When I think about getting her a diabetic alert dog, I think about learning to breathe again. It won’t solve everything or cure diabetes…but it will add a major safety factor to our every day life.  It will bring peace of mind to me.  It will bring independence to my daughter.  It will be a miracle.

I have had so many donations, some anonymous.  I want to reach out to every single person who has donated to us, passed our message around, helped us, gave us ideas, supported us, cried with us, loved us (even my over-bearing self)…every single person whose action has in any way possible helped this revolution of giving.  You are all amazing.  We give what we can, do what we can, and one sacrifice is not greater than another.  When you give of yourself you set into action a ‘pay it forward’ motion.  I will forever try to pay it forward.

To my family, sorry I tend to push you out of the picture always trying to be stoic. Sorry for needing so much control. Thank you for allowing me to have that control.  Thank you for being there no matter and helping me learn that it is okay if I cannot do everything, and it is okay to let my worries be shared with others.  Thank you for loving my daughter, my children, my family, as we are.  Thank you for seeing my vision and understanding it.  Thank you for not doubting my abilities even when I have.  Thank you for being there for us all.  Thank you for understanding.  Thank you for refusing not to share our burden with us.  Thank you.

To my friends; sorry I am not always available, and sorry that I am preoccupied (a lot) of the time. Sorry that I repeat myself often. Sorry that I have not been the best example or the best friend. Thank you for listening.  Thank you for your empathy. Thank you for knowing the needs of this mother. Thank you for not giving up on me. Thank you for your thoughts, prayers, actions, words, and kindness.  Thank you for loving my family and allowing us to reside in your hearts.  Thank you for the wonderful friendship you offer without stipulation.  Thank you for being you.

For my old classmates, friends, acquaintances… thank you. First off, sorry, I know I have been known to be quite the blunt jerk. So please listen when I say thank you for your thoughts, sacrifices, prayers, kindness, empathy.  You could have easily focused that somewhere else, yet, you chose to focus it on my daughter.  Thank you for being an example.  Thank you for seeing a need and trying to help in any way possible.  Thank you for the wonderful support and understanding.  Thank you for being you.  Thank you for continuing to be a part of our journey. I hope my children recognize this and amplify it in their life one thousand times over.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

To our anonymous help, what can I say?  I only hope I will find a way to help you like you have me.  I hope that I will forever remain empathetic and vigilant to those around me and their trials.  Thank you for being there for our family.  If I haven’t been able to personally thank you before, please know this is for you.  You amaze me.  I was never one to leave a mystery alone, but it was brought to my attention that perhaps this is how they (you) want it.  Some mysteries are not mine to solve.  Much love sent to you.  If ever we cross paths, know that your actions and sacrifices were very much a part of our journey and you have helped make the impossible possible.

To all of you, thank you to the moon and back.  Thank you for simply being you. I love you all, every simple action, no matter how small you think it may be, has been great to us.  There isn’t a day that goes by I haven’t thought about you.  When kinzie has her protector of life, every time she is alerted of a high or low, every time we are awoken at night, every milestone we meet, every trial we beat…I will be thinking of you.  I may not have signed up for this journey, but didn’t have a choice.  You had a choice and have chosen to be a part of it with us, I admire that so much.  It would be so much easier to turn your shoulder and just live your life. I love you, appreciate you, and am amazed by the power in support.  Much love is sent your way as I write this post. it is a great struggle not being able to ‘fix’ my daughter, and depending on everyone so much.  I couldn’t be where I am today without you all. I will never be able to thank you enough. Until the day I die, thank you…and even then…thank you.

Please continue to help spread the word, share our blog and Kinzie’s video.  Please educate those around you about type 1 diabetes, and continue to ask questions when you may not understand.