First impressions

Sometimes I feel like I am not good at this whole "first impression" thing. Especially when it comes to explaining diabetes to those responsible for my child.

You see, one must strike a balance: reassure people that your child's head will not spin around, projectile vomit pea soup, or simply pop off - "she's perfectly normal!"; while simultaneously telling them that diabetes is a very serious and life-threatening disease.

I have tried several approaches, but none of them really seems to work very well.

The latest attempt I had to make was with M's field hockey coaches. During the first team meeting, M explained that she had Type 1 diabetes. The coach said, "Okay, well, maybe your mom can come talk to us about it tomorrow at practice."

When "tomorrow at practice" arrived, I dutifully waited until the other parents had left or were focused on their own daughters, and began chatting with the coaches.

I started with my usual, cool, laid back introduction to the conversation: " I am not sure how familiar you are with diabetes." I say this, because some coaches have extensive experience with diabetic athletes, and I do not want to talk to them like they are D-life newbies.

The answer from M's coaches today is that they know very little.

Now here is the decision I need to make: Do I need to emphasize that M is capable and in control, or do I have to first let them know how important it is that we keep her safe?

I start with the concrete. I point to her pump. I say, "M is a Type 1 diabetic, which means she needs this in order to live."

I realize my mistake immediately, as I see the coaches' eyes widen. I imagine their pupils dilating in fear. I hesitate, thinking that I may have chosen the wrong route here, but it is too late. I can't say, "Never mind. What I meant to say was, 'you don't normally have to worry about her'."

The die is cast. I must plow ahead.

I try to change tactics. "I want you to know that M has never had a diabetic emergency. She has never passed out or been in the hospital since her diagnosis."

This is better. The coaches nod. One of them says, "She has control."

I think, "Okay, good choice of words. Apparently all of those television commercials  for Type 2 diabetes paraphernalia have a use. They educate the public and give them appropriate key phrases to use." I smile and tell them, yes, she has control, and she is very responsible (at least on the field!) with her diabetes.

I tell the coaches that bg can go high or low, but the one I am most concerned with is the low, because a) it is more immediately dangerous and b) she tends to go low while playing sports.

Sure highs aren't great, either, but it takes a long time for M to "go high", and if she checks her bg before and after a game, there is no way it will go high enough to be dangerous.

I explain the symptoms for a low: spaciness, shakiness, faltering, feeling hot from the inside. I explain that M can identify when she begins to go low, and she will let them know that she needs a rest to check her bg and possibly have a snack, which is what will bring her bg back up.

The coaches are beautifully alert (perhaps because I gave them the death scare right at the beginning, for which I am still feeling badly), and nod. They suggest a hand signal that M can give them from the field to let them know she needs a break ("hang loose"). They encourage her to communicate with them and they let her know that she will not be penalized for taking breaks due to her diabetes. They nod and smile encouragingly. Things are going swimmingly.

Until I have to tell them about the Glucagon.

I hate the Glucagon talk!

Telling people, "Oh, and by the way, if she passes out, you will need to mix an injection and give it to her. Then call 911." is not fun. This is the part that stops the squeamish from having M over for sleepover parties.

The good news is that I can say, "M has never passed out, and we have never used the Glucagon. In fact, when we renew the prescriptions, we practice mixing with the old ones and then throw them away.

"If she checks her bg before and after practice and games, she should never have any problems, so you will very likely never have to use it. Really. Hehe."

But still, the coaches seem to me to get a little panicky (M disagrees with me here. She says that they seemed fine). They start discussing who would be authorized to administer the injection. Would only the trainer be able? Or could they?

This is new territory for me. M has never been to public school. She has only played sports in private clubs. Wherever she went, people just said, "Okay, but if you're here, you'll do it, right?" I didn't realize that we might have to follow some sort of special protocol here.

The coaches tell me they will look into it (to their credit, they learned by the following day that they are permitted to administer the Glucagon), and I spend the last few minutes of the conversation going back to reassuring them.

I feel very sympathetic about their uncertainty. And I understand their eagerness to understand things clearly.

I know it's stressful to watch someone else's kid when they have a potentially life-threatening condition. I remember taking a four hour hike with an asthmatic who left his inhaler at the bottom of the mountain. Not good.

So this is what I say: "Most of the time, you won't even know that M has diabetes. She will do all of the work, and she will act like a normal kid. The chances of her having any major problems are slim, but I just want you to know that if something does happen, you will need to be prepared."

They were truly terrific in their response. They seemed eager to learn more about the disease, and even asked M if she could share the "danger signs" with her teammates. M readily agreed, and we walked to the car: M content, and I worrying about making the wrong impression.

I worried that they were too worried.

On the other hand, I guess I should be relieved that they didn't worry too little. They definitely took it seriously.

But am I robbing M of having a "normal" relationship with her coaches? Am I stressing the coaches out too much?

I don't know, but I hope not.

Maybe there is a chance that I'll get it right next time.

You're right! I am sure that everything will be fine. Diabetes won't stop us! :)

Then again, maybe not.