Diabetes Good -?

Every few months, it dawns on me... things are good. Diabetes good.

But is that.... too good?

This morning I set out really early, in the dark, when-the-monsters-are-out-dark, with 3 girlfriends for a longer run to prep for our half marathon coming up. It was chilly, fall weather, great for running... but dark. My pupils must have been super dilated trying to find my running legs through the darkness. It took a lot more concentration than I'm used to for some reason. And my legs are tired. I think they are still recovering from VT. I put one leg in front of the other for 7 miles, 1 mile short of what we planned, but the clock was ticking. That morning rush at our house for 2 hours while 3 different bus times come and go is insanely robotic and ridiculously loud and busy. And that's putting it mildly.

When I run, unlike biking or swimming when my mind is more on form and performance, I think of things... usually good things and I find it realxing. The music I choose for each run sets the pace for me and it usually dictates my thoughts. I seldom have a run where I am thinking about bills, or my list of things to do for the day, shopping returns, school notices, diabetes.... the run for me is all good. Happy thoughts. I tend to smile randomly, let out an occasional war whoop and maybe a little jig tossed in now and then - depending on with whom I am running. One day I really want to cartwheeel mid run, but I gotta admit, while I've thought about it almost every run, the idea of one of my limbs giving way mid flight overpowers the need to cartwheel at any moment. No thanks.

This morning it took a while for me to enter into "good thought" mode because of the darkness. When I finally did, I was thinking good thoughts about.... diabetes. What?

Things are good right now. Betsey started school, 7th grade, and she's showing more responsibility with her diabetes management. All as I am slowly releasing that firm grip I have on her tubing, for lack of a better phrase.

I always have my cell phone with me still for the calls that inevitably come, a few times a day. Sometimes more, sometimes less. I am always aware of where I am going and how far from town in the event I am needed by her. My level of awareness and thought of Betsey is "heightened" on gym days. I am always "on" still, but I feel less stress about it somehow. Betsey has shown some signs of taking care of things herself. She started the soccer try outs this week and managed to meet up with the nurse after school for the necessary supplies for the soccer field and has tested appropriately, called or texted me with numbers and messages, eaten as he should to keep her sugar sustained, and re-adjusts the pump as needed after practice.

Now we're only on day 3 of this.......... but so far, so good.

As far as the school day... same thing. She's taking charge of the adjustments as needed and doing a very good job.

Things are good. Diabetes good.

So on my run, while I'm thinking of this, I'm smiling because Betsey has started to "grow up" with her diabetes.

And then it hit me.

When things are "diabetes good" there is a bump in the road soon to come. I am not saying this to jinx it. This is the way it is. I get comfortable, as much as I can, I sail along, Betsey sails along... and then we get slammed. As soon as you let your guard down, it all flip flops. It's just the way it is.

I stopped smiling. I started replaying in my head what we do in the event of a "diabetes crisis" and how we manage all the other little people.

The hospital stays.

The calls to Yale trying to figure it out.

The stress that hovers in our house when something is not "diabetes good."

I hate that. I hate it for Betsey.

So my run this morning had some unpleasant realities for me. My legs were tired; they were asking me to stop but I carried on for the 7 miles. I came out on the other side. My memory was reminding me that life throws curve balls. Just as it was dark and I had to adjust to the darkness and accommodate my legs and mind until I could see the morning sunrise, diabetes will throw a curve ball, and I'll have to adjust my stance, accommodate Betsey, my family and our life to get through until we are back on track.

Just a reality-check run, I guess.

Maybe I'll rename that running mix.....