A1C 9

After discovering that M was guessing what her blood glucose levels might be, it was hard to act surprised when the DNE came in with the report that M's A1C was 9 this visit. (Attention non-D people: this is very bad!)

This was the highest it had ever been - even when she was first diagnosed.

The DNE came into the room, trying not to betray her concern when she said that M's numbers looked good, but that her A1C was a 9. M and I nodded. I said, "I can't say that I am surprised."

The DNE's eyebrows shot up, and she asked why it wasn't surprising.

To her credit, M launched into an explanation about her methods for tracking her progress over the last few weeks.

The DNE listened silently, and when M was finished explaining what she had done, she asked her when she stopped using this method.

M replied, "When my mom caught me."

As her eyebrows disappeared further into her hair, the DNE asked me how I caught M lying about her bg levels. I explained my methods, and the DNE congratulated me on my powers of observation, adding that not all parents would notice after a week or so (Big pat on the back for the "control freak" mother).

Then she asked M why she did it.

M said that she's just sick of being diabetic. She's tired of the hassle.

Hearing this always makes me want to cry.  I am disappointed that I can't make this particular hassle go away. After all, this isn't something all girls for through and must learn from: like your first bad boyfriend, or doing your three week project entirely on the night before it is due. It's not something I can guide her through in the same way I can typical life lessons with logical consequences.

I told the DNE that I had offered the option of counseling to M, but that she had adamantly refused.

It might have had something to do with the fact that I had just caught her in this self-destructive lie. She might not have been wide open to suggestions at that time.

FLASHBACK~FLASHBACK~FLASHBACK

Me: "If you don't feel comfortable talking to me or Daddy about it, maybe you'd like for us to arrange for you to talk to someone else who might be able to help you."

M: "I don't need a psychiatrist! There is nothing wrong with me!"

Me: "I know there's nothing wrong with you. Everything you are feeling is normal. But if you need to talk to someone so that you can feel better, then I am willing to come up with some way that it can happen."

M: No response, minus a silent glare.

Back in the office, the DNE made the same offer, but it went much better for her. M simply nodded and said that she would keep the option in mind.

One consequence of the whole debacle that I hadn't considered was that we would now have to visit the DNE every month until further notice. This bummed me out. Those visits are not only about $500 a pop, but they also require that I take a minimum of a half day off from work, which I do not enjoy doing.

It makes sense, however. We, as a family, have fallen off the wagon, so to speak. We need time to recover and heal before we can get the all clear.

The DNE was somewhat tactful, saying that she just wanted to make sure that M was "following along the right path" for a while.

So, with stepped up vigilance, we will continue forward. Hopefully we'll find some fantastic support for M along the way....

Diabetes camp can't come soon enough!

Don't fall off!