Sometimes I think that, as a D-parent, I face the specter of my child's death every day.
While that's not entirely true, sometimes I am scared. When she has a crazy low blood sugar reading or a blood sugar high that just won't come down, I feel the cold grip of fear grab at my chest, my stomach, and my knees.
In the meantime, I have to act calm, as if I am merely a little tense, and not thinking that I might have to rush my daughter to the hospital to be revived. Or worse.
These moments are usually fleeting, but I hate them. And the expectation that I might have one of these moments is a daily occurrence.
But I still have my daughter. She is alive, and healthy, for the most part. She makes me laugh, and frustrates me nearly every day, just like an ordinary (or extraordinary) teenager. She makes bad choices. She makes good choices. She deals with her diabetes, sometimes with aplomb, sometimes not. But she is here, and I get the chance to see her grow, as long as we are fortunate enough to keep this disease in check.
I am fortunate that I have had three years already that I wouldn't have had with her if she had been born 100 years ago.
But I have seen enough of those God-awful youtube videos about diabetics to know that she could die young. Very young. Especially if we are not careful. Especially if she is not careful.
And I love her.
And it breaks my heart that early death is always an unspoken part of our conversations about diabetes. And sports. And travel. And overnight stays at her friends' houses.
And sometimes it doesn't seem fair.
But then again, neither does this: The other day, my cousin, whom I love very much, suffered the terrible and unthinkable loss.
She lost her son.
Her healthy, young son of whom she was very proud.
At 19 years old, he was killed in a car accident.
The funeral is this weekend.
This is a death that one cannot anticipate. A loss that cannot be predicted. He was not sick. He was not at war. He was driving a car.
And I am at a loss.
How do I comfort someone who is dealing with the very thing that is lingering in my heart every day? My grief for her and her family is overwhelming.
It seems so unfair that a young man with so much potential could simply be plucked from this world.
My cousin is coping with what I truly believe to be every parent's greatest fear. My greatest fear.
And I wish that I could do more for her than pray.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Good friends, Bad friends
Along the journey through teenhood, every child likely has to face some decision making regarding her friends. Do I still hang around with that guy who smokes? That girl who is so boy crazy that she'll probably end up pregnant before she's 16?
My reply has always been: If you find them to be valuable, and you are bringing them up, rather letting them bring you down, I will not interfere. After all, we have all made mistakes, and sometimes a good friend helps us to see the better path. Who am I to judge?
Well, now. Let's throw diabetes into the mix, and what constitutes a "good" friend and a "bad" friend changes. A good friend never makes his friend feel like diabetes is a burden to him when hanging out with him. He is curious about the disease and what to do if there is an emergency.
But as I peruse the assortment of friends that M and some of my students have asmassed, I realize that friends can have a strong influence on a teen's desire and ability to manage the disease.
M has a friend who is a lovely young lady. But every time M returns from an overnight excursion at this friend's house, her bg levels are out of whack: usually very high. M says that when she and this friend are together, they are "too busy" for her to check her bg levels or measure her food intake. So she routinely comes home with a bg of 330 or higher.
How does a parent handle a stituation like this? The friend is not encourging M to do anything illegal, immoral, or outwardly dangerous, like hitchhiking. But she is, consciously or not, discouraging her from doing something healthy. After all, not treating yourself for diabetes can be just as dangerous as using ilicit drugs, couldn't it?
So why would a friend of a diabetic NOT encourage her friend to take care of herself? There are, of course myriad reasons: 1) the friend forgets that her companion has diabetes 2) the friend does not know how dangerous diabetes is 3) the friend thinks that squeezing blood out of your finger at the dinner table is "icky" 4) the friend can't deal with the seriousness of the disease 5) the friend is always in a hurry to do the next thing, and the diabetic child does not want to "be a pain".
The fifth answer is a big one. M doesn't want to make a big deal about her diabetes. I believe that she thinks that a night of high bgs is worth a visit to her friend's house. Not good, but understandable.
But then she has other friends, just a few, who stay on top of it, and ask questions about the disease. These friends demystify the disease and are not afraid of it. When M is with these friends, her bg is much closer to her target level when she returns from a visit.
I can't blame the friends themselves. M, after all, is the one who needs to make sure that she is in control of her diabetes. I cannot put that kind of burden on other 15-year-old girls, who are mostly dreaming about the clueless boys in their biology class.
I can't help but wish for a special kind of friend for M: the kind of friend I like to call the diabetes hero friend. It seems to me, however, that it is mostly boys who have this type of friend.
The diabetes hero friend knows what a high blood sugar is, what a low blood sugar is, and frequently has exciting stories that go with that knowledge. I hear stories from these boys about climbing trees to get their delusional-super-high-blood-sugared companions down to the ground and to safety. They have injected their friends with both insulin and glucagon (at different times, obviously) They laugh about their diabetic friends going into diabetic rages while driving the car with a high blood sugar. And they tell the tale of how they took the wheel from their friend and got them to the side of the road without injury.
I once had a diabetes hero friend tell me that if our country ever really wants to win a war, it should put diabetics with high blood glucose levels on the front lines, because they are "crazy angry", and "don't feel pain."
When I tell someone that I have a child with type 1 diabetes, I have real respect for people who say, "I know what you mean, my best friend growing up had diabetes", because that usually means that they have a pretty intimate knowledge of the disease and its consequences. And some wild stories to go with it.
Of course, to have a diabetes hero friend with stories, one must have reasons to be rescued.
Fortunately for M, that has not yet happened.
So, I suppose I will settle for a few friends that ask M if she should eat that, or if she needs to check her bg. Even if she gets tired of hearing it, at least she'll know that they care.
And that they are trying to be good friends.
My reply has always been: If you find them to be valuable, and you are bringing them up, rather letting them bring you down, I will not interfere. After all, we have all made mistakes, and sometimes a good friend helps us to see the better path. Who am I to judge?
Well, now. Let's throw diabetes into the mix, and what constitutes a "good" friend and a "bad" friend changes. A good friend never makes his friend feel like diabetes is a burden to him when hanging out with him. He is curious about the disease and what to do if there is an emergency.
But as I peruse the assortment of friends that M and some of my students have asmassed, I realize that friends can have a strong influence on a teen's desire and ability to manage the disease.
M has a friend who is a lovely young lady. But every time M returns from an overnight excursion at this friend's house, her bg levels are out of whack: usually very high. M says that when she and this friend are together, they are "too busy" for her to check her bg levels or measure her food intake. So she routinely comes home with a bg of 330 or higher.
How does a parent handle a stituation like this? The friend is not encourging M to do anything illegal, immoral, or outwardly dangerous, like hitchhiking. But she is, consciously or not, discouraging her from doing something healthy. After all, not treating yourself for diabetes can be just as dangerous as using ilicit drugs, couldn't it?
So why would a friend of a diabetic NOT encourage her friend to take care of herself? There are, of course myriad reasons: 1) the friend forgets that her companion has diabetes 2) the friend does not know how dangerous diabetes is 3) the friend thinks that squeezing blood out of your finger at the dinner table is "icky" 4) the friend can't deal with the seriousness of the disease 5) the friend is always in a hurry to do the next thing, and the diabetic child does not want to "be a pain".
The fifth answer is a big one. M doesn't want to make a big deal about her diabetes. I believe that she thinks that a night of high bgs is worth a visit to her friend's house. Not good, but understandable.
But then she has other friends, just a few, who stay on top of it, and ask questions about the disease. These friends demystify the disease and are not afraid of it. When M is with these friends, her bg is much closer to her target level when she returns from a visit.
I can't blame the friends themselves. M, after all, is the one who needs to make sure that she is in control of her diabetes. I cannot put that kind of burden on other 15-year-old girls, who are mostly dreaming about the clueless boys in their biology class.
I can't help but wish for a special kind of friend for M: the kind of friend I like to call the diabetes hero friend. It seems to me, however, that it is mostly boys who have this type of friend.
The diabetes hero friend knows what a high blood sugar is, what a low blood sugar is, and frequently has exciting stories that go with that knowledge. I hear stories from these boys about climbing trees to get their delusional-super-high-blood-sugared companions down to the ground and to safety. They have injected their friends with both insulin and glucagon (at different times, obviously) They laugh about their diabetic friends going into diabetic rages while driving the car with a high blood sugar. And they tell the tale of how they took the wheel from their friend and got them to the side of the road without injury.
 |
| Diabetes hero friends know what to do in an emergency! |
I once had a diabetes hero friend tell me that if our country ever really wants to win a war, it should put diabetics with high blood glucose levels on the front lines, because they are "crazy angry", and "don't feel pain."
When I tell someone that I have a child with type 1 diabetes, I have real respect for people who say, "I know what you mean, my best friend growing up had diabetes", because that usually means that they have a pretty intimate knowledge of the disease and its consequences. And some wild stories to go with it.
Of course, to have a diabetes hero friend with stories, one must have reasons to be rescued.
Fortunately for M, that has not yet happened.
So, I suppose I will settle for a few friends that ask M if she should eat that, or if she needs to check her bg. Even if she gets tired of hearing it, at least she'll know that they care.
And that they are trying to be good friends.
 |
| Good friends are worth their weight in insulin. |
Friday, July 13, 2012
Instant gratification, the diabetic version
Still reading Think Like a Pancreas by Gary Scheiner and finding some useful tidbits. The author's style is much more friendly than I am accustomed to reading in the tomes through which I have usually slogged.
One chapter especially caught my eye, as I know that it can be hard for M to understand what the big freaking deal is about maintaining a consistent blood glucose level.
People often recommend that I introduce M to people who have lost feet or vision or kidney function due to diabetes.
The thing is, I know that M already knows the consequences. She knows that this disease, unmanaged, can kill her. But as a teen, it is just one of those other annoying things that can kill you, like walking across the street without looking both ways, or snorting bath salts, or swimming without a lifeguard present.
So how about another approach?
Think Like a Pancreas recommends pointing out what controlled blood sugars can do for you, instead of pointing out that poorly controlled bg can hurt you.
For my lovely M, this "instant gratification" alert might just work, especially because she is an athlete. Below is a list of short term benefits to controlling one's bg levels:
So can M.
Her bg-induced mood swings are notorious, and her ability to focus also varies with her bg levels. I also remember noticing that M's skin looked better immediately after her jaunt to the hospital, where we learned that dry skin is one of the many, many symptoms of diabetes.
I photocopied the page and stuck it to her mirror so she could see it in the mornings. She asked me about it, nodded, and put it in her room.
I can't say that she's been reading it, but her bg levels have been steadier than they had been in a while.
So here's to the power of positive thinking.
One chapter especially caught my eye, as I know that it can be hard for M to understand what the big freaking deal is about maintaining a consistent blood glucose level.
People often recommend that I introduce M to people who have lost feet or vision or kidney function due to diabetes.
The thing is, I know that M already knows the consequences. She knows that this disease, unmanaged, can kill her. But as a teen, it is just one of those other annoying things that can kill you, like walking across the street without looking both ways, or snorting bath salts, or swimming without a lifeguard present.
So how about another approach?
Think Like a Pancreas recommends pointing out what controlled blood sugars can do for you, instead of pointing out that poorly controlled bg can hurt you.
For my lovely M, this "instant gratification" alert might just work, especially because she is an athlete. Below is a list of short term benefits to controlling one's bg levels:
- Enhanced physical performance (better hand-eye coordination for stopping lacrosse balls)
- Enhanced intellectual performance (keep mom off your back about your grades!)
- Enhanced social/coping skills (deal with problems without embarrassing yourself in front of your classmates or the public in general)
- Better sleep (feel rested in the morning)
- Fewer infections (and colds!)
- Healthier skin (No acne or dry, flaky skin: includes dry scalp issues)
So can M.
Her bg-induced mood swings are notorious, and her ability to focus also varies with her bg levels. I also remember noticing that M's skin looked better immediately after her jaunt to the hospital, where we learned that dry skin is one of the many, many symptoms of diabetes.
I photocopied the page and stuck it to her mirror so she could see it in the mornings. She asked me about it, nodded, and put it in her room.
I can't say that she's been reading it, but her bg levels have been steadier than they had been in a while.
So here's to the power of positive thinking.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Diabetes Blog Week
As I continue this journey with my unwelcome guest, diabetes, I learn new stuff all the time.
November is diabetes awareness month.
The American Diabetes Association and the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation are both good organizations with differing philosophies.
Some DNEs don't like it when you read or ask questions.
And this week is Diabetes Blog Week. This is the time of year when we are supposed to look around, find blogs that we like and share them.
So here we go.
My favorite diabetes blog is the first one I found. I was desperately looking for coping strategies, when I found Six Until Me by Kerri Sparling. At the time she was pregnant and discussing the trials and tribulations of her diabetic pregnancy, which at times made me weep. She has a nice, light style, and she evidently blogs for a living.
The next blog that I bookmarked was Typical Type 1 by Jacquie Paul Wojcik. She reminds me of what a grown-up M might be like. She drinks beer. She leaves her nasty test strips lying around. She is witty and insightful about the reactions of others to Type 1.
The only other diabetes blog I have on my bookmark sheet is Death of a Pancreas by Joanne, a Canadian immigrant who now lives in Texas. Her daughter is much younger than M, and even though we have never had a direct conversation, she and I do check out each other's blogs. She to look a little into the future, and I to remember that I am not the only insane diabetes momma out there. I discovered Joanne's blog when Kerri posted the video "What NOT to say to the parent of a Type 1 diabetic", which is hilarious if you run in diabetic circles.
I tried to get M to blog about her experiences. I thought other kids might benefit from her discoveries as a diabetic. She gave it a shot. I think she posted about 6 or seven one paragraph posts. But I realized that I wanted her to do it more than she wanted to do it.
Then I realized that I wanted to do it.
So here we are, nearly two years and 98 posts later, still babbling about the diabetic experience from a parental point of view.
I am always giddily pleased when I run into someone and they say that they have read my blog. So to those of you who have been reading it: Thanks! Even if one reader out there has learned more about diabetes, then we are one person closer to dispelling the myths and making life easier for other diabetics. And I appreciate that.
November is diabetes awareness month.
The American Diabetes Association and the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation are both good organizations with differing philosophies.
Some DNEs don't like it when you read or ask questions.
And this week is Diabetes Blog Week. This is the time of year when we are supposed to look around, find blogs that we like and share them.
So here we go.
My favorite diabetes blog is the first one I found. I was desperately looking for coping strategies, when I found Six Until Me by Kerri Sparling. At the time she was pregnant and discussing the trials and tribulations of her diabetic pregnancy, which at times made me weep. She has a nice, light style, and she evidently blogs for a living.
The next blog that I bookmarked was Typical Type 1 by Jacquie Paul Wojcik. She reminds me of what a grown-up M might be like. She drinks beer. She leaves her nasty test strips lying around. She is witty and insightful about the reactions of others to Type 1.
The only other diabetes blog I have on my bookmark sheet is Death of a Pancreas by Joanne, a Canadian immigrant who now lives in Texas. Her daughter is much younger than M, and even though we have never had a direct conversation, she and I do check out each other's blogs. She to look a little into the future, and I to remember that I am not the only insane diabetes momma out there. I discovered Joanne's blog when Kerri posted the video "What NOT to say to the parent of a Type 1 diabetic", which is hilarious if you run in diabetic circles.
I tried to get M to blog about her experiences. I thought other kids might benefit from her discoveries as a diabetic. She gave it a shot. I think she posted about 6 or seven one paragraph posts. But I realized that I wanted her to do it more than she wanted to do it.
Then I realized that I wanted to do it.
So here we are, nearly two years and 98 posts later, still babbling about the diabetic experience from a parental point of view.
I am always giddily pleased when I run into someone and they say that they have read my blog. So to those of you who have been reading it: Thanks! Even if one reader out there has learned more about diabetes, then we are one person closer to dispelling the myths and making life easier for other diabetics. And I appreciate that.
 | |
| Keep reading, my friends! |
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Ups, Downs, and Opinions
Shortly after M switched to Novolog, she also began lacrosse season, which usually requires a couple of weeks of adjustment.
I am pretty sure that the timing could not have been worse.
Having two major changes in lifestyle make the diabetic body, let's just say, unpredictable.
Her blood sugar was a mess. 32! 595! 31! 536! AHHHHHH!
This change and unpredictability sparked a lot of debate and discussion among those of us who were responsible for M's care.
First it was the DNE, who told me that "insulin is insulin", and that any change that was occurring must have to do with her renewed exercise levels. I disagreed, knowing that we have made this change before, and it was never quite this erratic. I did wonder if maybe M was eating food that I didn't know about, but she assured me that she was not.
Then the school nurse decided to chime in. "You need to get that insulin changed back! Ask the insurance company to change it! They will make an exception if there is a reaction that is detrimental to her health!"
The athletic trainer agreed. "It was not this bad before! It must be the insulin!"
I found these forceful declarations unfair.
I was exhausted. I was checking M's bg levels every two hours around the clock. I was stressed. I was tired. I actually became weepy a work. My coworker suggested that I take a mental health day after she asked me how M was doing, and I welled up at the thought of my daughter and her unpredictable results. I wondered daily which child I would be coming home to: the pasty gray-faced child, or the insane cranky child who felt defensive about her test results.
My diabetic students told me to hang in there; that I was doing the right thing. Monitoring bg levels regularly would give me the information that I needed.
M and I decided to give it a month. After two weeks of bi-hourly monitoring, we adjusted her basal rate rather aggressively, up in some places, down in others.
Happily, after about 4 weeks, we are back within our "normal" range.
But let me tell you, having everyone give me, a strung out parent, different advice just about sent me over the edge. I understood each point of view, and they all reflected my own guesses as to what was going on. I felt defensive any time someone felt that they could give me an absolute answer.
There are no absolute answers, no matter who thinks that just one thing will make a person's body go from insane to normal.
I knew in my gut that it had to be a combination of factors.
And while that reasoning and very careful monitoring paid off, I still feel that it would be inappropriate to tell people that they were only partially right.
Saying, "I am smarter than you are," just seems a little rude.
I am pretty sure that the timing could not have been worse.
Having two major changes in lifestyle make the diabetic body, let's just say, unpredictable.
Her blood sugar was a mess. 32! 595! 31! 536! AHHHHHH!
This change and unpredictability sparked a lot of debate and discussion among those of us who were responsible for M's care.
First it was the DNE, who told me that "insulin is insulin", and that any change that was occurring must have to do with her renewed exercise levels. I disagreed, knowing that we have made this change before, and it was never quite this erratic. I did wonder if maybe M was eating food that I didn't know about, but she assured me that she was not.
Then the school nurse decided to chime in. "You need to get that insulin changed back! Ask the insurance company to change it! They will make an exception if there is a reaction that is detrimental to her health!"
The athletic trainer agreed. "It was not this bad before! It must be the insulin!"
I found these forceful declarations unfair.
I was exhausted. I was checking M's bg levels every two hours around the clock. I was stressed. I was tired. I actually became weepy a work. My coworker suggested that I take a mental health day after she asked me how M was doing, and I welled up at the thought of my daughter and her unpredictable results. I wondered daily which child I would be coming home to: the pasty gray-faced child, or the insane cranky child who felt defensive about her test results.
My diabetic students told me to hang in there; that I was doing the right thing. Monitoring bg levels regularly would give me the information that I needed.
M and I decided to give it a month. After two weeks of bi-hourly monitoring, we adjusted her basal rate rather aggressively, up in some places, down in others.
Happily, after about 4 weeks, we are back within our "normal" range.
But let me tell you, having everyone give me, a strung out parent, different advice just about sent me over the edge. I understood each point of view, and they all reflected my own guesses as to what was going on. I felt defensive any time someone felt that they could give me an absolute answer.
There are no absolute answers, no matter who thinks that just one thing will make a person's body go from insane to normal.
I knew in my gut that it had to be a combination of factors.
And while that reasoning and very careful monitoring paid off, I still feel that it would be inappropriate to tell people that they were only partially right.
Saying, "I am smarter than you are," just seems a little rude.
 |
| I may even be smarter than this car! |
Monday, April 30, 2012
Left out
It happens.
I try to understand that it happens.
I tell myself that I would rather have a person tell me that they are not ready for the responsibility of watching my daughter during a sleepover party, or on a trip to the beach. I tell myself that if they are not able to deal with my daughter having Type 1 diabetes, then I do not want them to be in charge of her care in a situation when I might be out of contact for even a few minutes.
But it hurts.
It hurts me to even ask them.
And even though I understand it, it upsets me that some people are unwilling to take the risk.
She has not been hospitalized, lost consciousness, or flipped out since she was diagnosed. She knows to call me when her bg hits certain levels, just so that I can be part of her action plan for the day. And realistically, she can handle it all herself for a few hours. Odds are, nothing will go wrong.
But you never know.
If she loses consciousness, if she grows unreasonably angry, and the person in charge doesn't know what to do, it's a problem.
M's bg levels had been crazy. All over the place crazy. 595! 33! 578! 41! It didn't stop for days!
And when we finally had two days of it more or less under control, M was to go to a friend's house overnight and then join the family at Anime Boston to honor her friend's birthday.
The plans had been in place for weeks.
M was the only person that her friend invited.
Everyone wanted M to be able to go: M, her friend, me, the friend's mother.
This friend's mother is fantastic. She has traditionally been unafraid to take M for days at a time. But this was unusual. M's bg has only been back under control for a day or two.
I knew I had to make the call, and I hated it.
I explained the situation to the mom. She listened carefully, and asked several good questions.
I told her how much I hated asking her to take M under these circumstances, but I thought it was only fair that she fully understand what she was getting into.
After a few more questions, the mom stated that she would take M. She asked for contact numbers for the entire time she had M, as well as permission to treat letter in case of an emergency. Then she told me that the girls would refrain from the birthday cupcakes that she had planned to share.
I started to protest that M shouldn't be any more of a burden to her than necessary. She said, "No. It is not all right for my daughters to pig out in front of M when she can't enjoy it. We will save the cupcakes for later."
I have a friend who once told me that I can juggle a million things, and I am always in control: until my kids are sick. It unnerves me.
So, at this point I snapped: not in a bad way, but I could feel tears of relief stinging my eyes. My voice was trembling as I thanked her for her kindness, and told her how much I appreciated that she was willing to accommodate my daughter.
And I really did.
I try to understand that it happens.
I tell myself that I would rather have a person tell me that they are not ready for the responsibility of watching my daughter during a sleepover party, or on a trip to the beach. I tell myself that if they are not able to deal with my daughter having Type 1 diabetes, then I do not want them to be in charge of her care in a situation when I might be out of contact for even a few minutes.
But it hurts.
It hurts me to even ask them.
And even though I understand it, it upsets me that some people are unwilling to take the risk.
She has not been hospitalized, lost consciousness, or flipped out since she was diagnosed. She knows to call me when her bg hits certain levels, just so that I can be part of her action plan for the day. And realistically, she can handle it all herself for a few hours. Odds are, nothing will go wrong.
But you never know.
If she loses consciousness, if she grows unreasonably angry, and the person in charge doesn't know what to do, it's a problem.
M's bg levels had been crazy. All over the place crazy. 595! 33! 578! 41! It didn't stop for days!
And when we finally had two days of it more or less under control, M was to go to a friend's house overnight and then join the family at Anime Boston to honor her friend's birthday.
The plans had been in place for weeks.
M was the only person that her friend invited.
Everyone wanted M to be able to go: M, her friend, me, the friend's mother.
This friend's mother is fantastic. She has traditionally been unafraid to take M for days at a time. But this was unusual. M's bg has only been back under control for a day or two.
I knew I had to make the call, and I hated it.
I explained the situation to the mom. She listened carefully, and asked several good questions.
I told her how much I hated asking her to take M under these circumstances, but I thought it was only fair that she fully understand what she was getting into.
After a few more questions, the mom stated that she would take M. She asked for contact numbers for the entire time she had M, as well as permission to treat letter in case of an emergency. Then she told me that the girls would refrain from the birthday cupcakes that she had planned to share.
I started to protest that M shouldn't be any more of a burden to her than necessary. She said, "No. It is not all right for my daughters to pig out in front of M when she can't enjoy it. We will save the cupcakes for later."
I have a friend who once told me that I can juggle a million things, and I am always in control: until my kids are sick. It unnerves me.
So, at this point I snapped: not in a bad way, but I could feel tears of relief stinging my eyes. My voice was trembling as I thanked her for her kindness, and told her how much I appreciated that she was willing to accommodate my daughter.
And I really did.
 |
| Anime peeps. Long story short, a good time was had by all. |
Thursday, April 26, 2012
No choice
So a few weeks ago I receive a letter from our insurance company.
It states that my daughter is on a medication that is "no longer a preferred medication". And I think to myself, "Really. The only medication that she uses is insulin. Did you have an alternative for insulin you HMO bastard pieces of shit?" (We actually have a PPO, but I just love that quote.)
Upon further investigation, it seems that Caremark has decided that it no longer wants to work with Humalog (from the Eli Lily company in Indiana), and prefers to work with Novolog (from Novo Nordisk, a company in Denmark). They stated in their letter that failure to switch to the preferred medication may result in loss of coverage for the current medication.
This makes me nervous.
Why? Because the one student I know for sure uses this stuff has very wild swings in blood sugar during the day. His mother and I spoke about different kinds of insulins at a school event. She was touting Novolog as better because it works faster, more like natural insulin.
I thought that maybe we would try it, eventually. Maybe it would work more effectively with M's lifestyle, but we would wait to do it over the summer, if we did try it, so that we could monitor the effects of the change on her system without too much life getting in the way.
But the insurance company threw off my time line.
I asked another diabetic student about which insulin she used. She said that she uses Humalog, and that she had tried Novolog, but after trying it, her doctor wrote her a letter stating that she needed to switch back for medical reasons.
What were the medical reasons?
She wears her pump very discreetly, snaking the tubing from a pocket in her jeans to the infusion set on her thigh. While using Novolog, she said that she was developing divots on her thighs at the infusion site. Her doctor noticed that her muscles were withering where the Novolog entered her system, and successfully appealed the insurance company mandate.
I was a little alarmed.
I brought my concerns to our DNE, who immediately poo-pooed the idea. She had never heard of any of the problems to which I was referring. She told us that "There is no difference between the insulins, and anyone who tells you otherwise is blowing smoke."
After careful consideration, we chose to give Novolog a try without appealing the decisions of the insurance company. We hope that all will go well, and that we won't have to fight for an appeal in the future.
With lacrosse season starting up, I am hopeful that this new medication will interact with M and her lifestyle smoothly.
But I know better.
No adjustment is simple in D-world.
I will be sharpening my swords for battle, just in case.
It states that my daughter is on a medication that is "no longer a preferred medication". And I think to myself, "Really. The only medication that she uses is insulin. Did you have an alternative for insulin you HMO bastard pieces of shit?" (We actually have a PPO, but I just love that quote.)
Upon further investigation, it seems that Caremark has decided that it no longer wants to work with Humalog (from the Eli Lily company in Indiana), and prefers to work with Novolog (from Novo Nordisk, a company in Denmark). They stated in their letter that failure to switch to the preferred medication may result in loss of coverage for the current medication.
This makes me nervous.
Why? Because the one student I know for sure uses this stuff has very wild swings in blood sugar during the day. His mother and I spoke about different kinds of insulins at a school event. She was touting Novolog as better because it works faster, more like natural insulin.
I thought that maybe we would try it, eventually. Maybe it would work more effectively with M's lifestyle, but we would wait to do it over the summer, if we did try it, so that we could monitor the effects of the change on her system without too much life getting in the way.
But the insurance company threw off my time line.
I asked another diabetic student about which insulin she used. She said that she uses Humalog, and that she had tried Novolog, but after trying it, her doctor wrote her a letter stating that she needed to switch back for medical reasons.
What were the medical reasons?
She wears her pump very discreetly, snaking the tubing from a pocket in her jeans to the infusion set on her thigh. While using Novolog, she said that she was developing divots on her thighs at the infusion site. Her doctor noticed that her muscles were withering where the Novolog entered her system, and successfully appealed the insurance company mandate.
I was a little alarmed.
I brought my concerns to our DNE, who immediately poo-pooed the idea. She had never heard of any of the problems to which I was referring. She told us that "There is no difference between the insulins, and anyone who tells you otherwise is blowing smoke."
After careful consideration, we chose to give Novolog a try without appealing the decisions of the insurance company. We hope that all will go well, and that we won't have to fight for an appeal in the future.
With lacrosse season starting up, I am hopeful that this new medication will interact with M and her lifestyle smoothly.
But I know better.
No adjustment is simple in D-world.
I will be sharpening my swords for battle, just in case.
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| Please don't make me use this. |
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