January 7, 2016

Yesterday I had an appointment with the endocrinologist down at the clinic by Loma Linda. I'm used to mostly dealing with the nurses and not really seeing his doctor. She only came in for about 10 minutes, talked to me about how he was doing, looked at his numbers after they downloaded his meter, and shook Duncan's hand. I was left with the nurse, A really great nurse who's name believe it or not was Patience.

When I got the letter in the mail last month about his appointment they told me to anticipate it to be 4 hours. I thought that meant I could be in the waiting room for about 2 1/2 to 3 hours waiting to be seen. I got down to the clinic at 1:16 for his 1:00 appointment, the traffic going down was crazy with all the rain we got, and I couldn't go faster than 40 mph on the freeway. I checked in and hadn't sat down for 5 minutes when they called us in. Yay, I'm probably NOT going to be here for 4 hours. I talked to Patience, then the doctor, then the nutritionist, and then the social worker was supposed to come in, but she got held up so she said she'll see me next time because it was so late. I was alright with that because by the time the social worker got to me it was 5:19... Yeah... it took 4 hours.

Today was a hard day. I thought Duncan would be a little cranky because of yesterday. It had been such a long day for him and he was such a trooper the entire time. They told me he was the cutest patient they ever had (which I'm sure they say to everyone). He woke up in a good mood and had an excellent morning running around terrorizing is brothers. We all ate breakfast, I measured out insulin like I always do, and he ran around some more. Checked his sugar at nap time, and it was at 68. That was too low, so I gave him some juice. I checked him 15 minutes later and he was up past 200, which of course is too high. I put him down for a nap and let his blood sugar settle. 

Duncan woke up in a happy mood running around. Within 5 minutes he was rolling on the floor screaming and would not let me comfort him. I checked his sugar again and he was at 33. 33! I'm not ashamed to say that a part of me panics when his sugar gets below 80, but it has never been as low as 33 before, so I rushed to get him some juice. He drank the juice and still wouldn't stop screaming... 15 minutes later I checked him again as I'm supposed to do and he was only up to 56, time for more juice. He wouldn't take it. I ran and got a piece of Christmas chocolate and he ate it happily. 15 minutes later he was up to 98 and was his happy self again. He ate his lunch and I got my Duncan back.

The highs I can deal with, the lows are what scare me.