The toll it takes

I took T to a church group last week that divides the kids into age groups and genders. One thing I can't stand about the traditional public school model is the segregation by age that is so unnatural in the rest of life's venues, and I think, harmful. At the same time I think it's probably necessary for safety reasons in the public schools as there is so little supervision of the kids who often interact in negative ways with each other; if bullying is a problem in same age peer groups, how much worse would it be in a mixed age group? But I totally digress here. Even though I have found a church or two that supports home schooling, and my own most frequented church of choice has a youth group that mixes ages 12-18, if I want T to be able to pick some of his own social activities, those same age, same gender experiences are likely to be a benefit in some ways in an environment where the people in charge don't know him well.

T had a great time at the group, so at least I should be grateful for that. Ironically, when the group leader asked for prayer requests, T asked for them all to pray for his mother, because there is "only one of her, and four of us." I can't even imagine what the leader must have thought of a statement like that, but it cracked me up. But lord knows I appreciate the prayers, especially when I would have expected him to say something like "please pray for me, because I'm starting school again soon, and I hate it. Plus I'm looking for a good new school for someone with asperger's." Well that's certainly something I've been praying about a lot recently.

It's true I need my own prayers though, and I have to learn to ask for it. On more than one occasion in the not too distant past, some people have recommended that I join a caregiver's support group, and even my doctor made some not to subtle comments about how talking to a "counselor" might help with some of the stress that a person who lives with four people with disabilities might feel. Well I am not proud, if I had the money and the time, I love therapy. But the point that I need to take better care of myself especially under these circumstances is well taken. I think it's a mother's universal lament that they are so busy trying to fulfill the needs of all the other family members that they don't have time for themselves or otherwise always put themselves at the bottom of the list. And it's stupid. Because if I had taken better care of myself, I would be a better wife and mother right now.

It's been just over a year since my mini stroke, and I don't really feel like I've made that much progress. I have worked really hard, so it's fairly frustrating. Here's what I wrote on myspace last year around this time:

START:
I have been getting a lot of questions about how my health is going recently. Back in May, I had what some doctors referred to as a possible "mini-stroke" or "TIA." Don't really care what it was called, but it sure was scary. My blood pressure was off the charts, and I didn't realize it until it felt like my head exploded. Anyway, a couple of doctor visits and diagnostic tests later, it turned out that I had very high blood sugar and very high cholesterol to go along with the high blood pressure. I usually get a physical every year, and last year I skipped it. I am pretty particular about not skipping it usually because there is a lot of disease in my genes. But last year was very hard. In fact, the last six years have been a real challenge, and last year was just the icing on the cake of stress. So I had no business skipping my physical, busy or not, and I paid for it, and worse, my family has really paid for it.

The good news is I didn't die. And my heart is in actually pretty good shape. The bad news is that I have type 2 diabetes, but I am absolutely determined to get rid of it. I have radically changed my eating habits (goodbye my favorite cherry coke - sob, sob), and I have been meticulous about eating when I'm supposed to, measuring my sugar levels, and taking appropriate therapeutic measures. I am learning more everyday. And while I've been feeling pretty cruddy, things are definitely looking up.

After three months of treatment, my 30 day sugar average is 139, my 14 day average is 134, and my 7 day average is 131. So the numbers are not only almost normal (normal range is 80 - 120), but they are still going down. Soon I may need no insulin or drugs at all. I keep a close watch on my blood pressure, and I only have to take medication for that on an "as needed" basis, which is almost never. I am doing some gross things (anybody care for the taste of pure apple cider vinegar?) and I keep trying more things. I am eating a lot more fruits and vegetables, and a lot less carbohydrates, especially simple carbohydrates.

So all in all it's pretty good news. And in the not too distant future, I look forward to saying "I used to be a type two diabetic, but not anymore!"
END

Well, my optimism was unfortunately misplaced. Because an average of my morning fasting and post prandial (two hours after eating) blood sugars ranges widely from 130 up to 155. I need MORE insulin now, not less. And I have definite long term nerve damage that is probably irreversible and makes my sugars a lot more erratic. I am going through early menopause due to all of this, and my fibromyalgia has kicked into overdrive. My diet has such a low percentage of carbohydrates in it that I needed to start eating more protein (mostly animal products, something I was previously trying to cut back on). With the weird hormonal changes that the descent into menopause causes, I suddenly gained twenty pounds in two months last spring, which is still with me, but fortunately has not increased at least. I am horribly fatigued. And thanks to the nerve damage, I wake up almost everyday with horrid nausea and pretty much have constant stomach pain. I will keep working on it, but it's frustrating for progress to be so slow or non existent after such a hard struggle.

I have a lot to be grateful for, and my faith has only increased in the face of all of this. I do need to make time to work on myself more. It's so hard to consider putting the kid's needs on hold while I make time for myself. I still haven't had a physical since last year, even though I've seen doctors more this year than in my whole life. That's just foolish, and I know it. But I have such a hard time keeping up with the bare minimums that adding more doctor's visits into the mix seems impossible. I wouldn't say that I'm depressed (I have been before, so I know the difference) but it is certainly easy to get discouraged right now. But with baby steps, and maybe some more prayer, I keep going forward.