The thing about parenting a child with a chronic illness like diabetes is that you’ve always got some underlying anxiety. There is never a day off–someone has to be constantly paying attention to a lot of things.
In our house, we have settled upon a division of labor of sorts when it comes to parenting. By virtue of my schedule and my abilities, I am the Cook, Nutritionist and Equipment Manager. Because he’s one of those people who can fall back to sleep at the drop of a hat after a middle-of-the-night interruption, Hubs is Night Watchman. He is also the Researcher, keeping tabs on all the newest developments in technology.
Right now we’re in the middle of a medical-supply crisis brought on by some frustrating insulin-pump issues. Technology is great…when it works. But when your kid’s insulin pump quits after 24 hours when it’s supposed to last 48 to 72, you run out of supplies faster than you should. And then your pump supplier won’t get you any more because your insurance company won’t authorize it–not even if you ask if you can pay for them out of pocket.
TheKid’s endocrinologist suggested 10 days ago that we call the pump manufacturer and ask for samples of different insulin pump sets. I did that–10 days ago. The representative promised to have them in the mail ASAP. Yesterday I called back because I had not received anything, only to be told that her supervisor had mailed them early last week, USPS.
And then last night TheKid’s pump set once again quit at the 24-hour mark. AND the new set he inserted this morning came right out again because he caught the tubing on something while getting dressed. So we were down 2 more sets, with only 2 left to last us 10 days.
So this morning at Mass my anxiety level was climbing high. After Mass as I drove across town, I was praying out loud in my car: “Help me give this to you, God. I don’t know what else I can do.” I was afraid that I’d be in tears by the time I got to ShopRite.
When I got home I emailed a bunch of friends whom I know I can count on for prayers. And then technical issues wouldn’t let me log in for work, so I decided to just get out of here. I went to the mall to spend a Godiva Chocolate gift card I’d received before Christmas–but which I’d saved because with my foot injury, I wasn’t going near a mall. What better way to alleviate stress than getting my hands on some really good chocolate, right?
God is good.
We’ll make it to next week when the new order comes in. And when we figure out which pump set brand works best for TheKid, we’ll navigate the process to change our order.
I really wish that it wouldn’t take me quite so long to lay my concerns at God’s feet. It really does help. I remember that two years ago, I was facing similar issues. Again, it was over TheKid’s health. That’s really my breaking point. There is precious little that I can control about that, but diabetes is all about control.
From April 2014:
Yesterday at our Secular Franciscans meeting we had a guest speaker: a Sister who works at a local retreat house. She gave a presentation about practical ways to pray constantly.
Here’s one of the recommendations she gave us:
- What is the one sentence I’d like to say to God right now?
I just used that technique, and I have to say, there’s comfort in it.
I’m in the middle of some red tape on the medical-provider end of Little Brother’s diabetes care, and the idea of the confrontation I’ll probably have to have in order to untangle this mess has ratcheted my anxiety level into the stratosphere. Suddenly I just stopped what I was doing while waiting for the phone call I’m dreading and said, out loud,
“I’m hitting the wall right now, God.”
(Fortunately no one else is home right now.)
It helped a little, though, just to get that out there. I can kind of feel my jaw unclenching and my fists opening up–just a bit.
And then, the tears. Not tears of despair, but instead that almost-relief when you know in your heart that God’s got this.