Odds and Ends

Today is one of those odd days, after the festivities have ended,  the new year hasn't quite begun and we have said another goodbye to R after his short Christmas holiday. Things feel a bit hollow and tired.  The tired bit may well be because we packed a lot into our time together as a family.  We went to a couple of shows, a movie, an archery day, ate far too much, shared time and laughter with family and friends and generally feasted well.  The nagging sadness of not having Mom around to share all this is hard to get used to.

There are other moments of thoughtfulness during this traditionally "happy season".  TD's T1 diagnosis was 4 years ago, just before Christmas on the 22 December.  Each year it seems to stop me short, both in gratitude that she is OK, and sadness that she has to deal with diabetes forever.  This year on the 22 December we were at the theatre, watching the most magical musical - Matilda.  It is a wonderful production (do yourself a favour and get tickets if you can !!)  Based on the Roald Dahl story, the young Matilda is enveloped in love and support by her teacher, Jenny Honey.  One of Miss Honey's songs is about having the courage to face up to people and situations that are difficult and unpalatable (She sings "Just knock on the door, Jenny" when she needs to confront the head, Ms Trunchbull, and is too scared to enter the office.)  I think that might be a good motto to start the new year with - just knock on the door.  It's a start, and often what's behind the door is not as bad as the anticipation of setting things in motion.

I think this is how TD feels about the CGM.  She has been wearing the Continuous Glucose Monitor for three weeks now.  The sensors last two weeks each, so although the endocrinologist showed us how to "click" the sensor into her the first time, the switch over was a little nerve wracking.  But it really is quite easy.  It comes in a kit with a sort of stamp or punch which pushes the filament into the interstitial fluid.  It sits on her upper arm, and -here's the best bit- it needs no calibration, so TD has not had to do a finger prick blood glucose test in three weeks.  That alone feels like a huge liberation.  She holds a reader up to the sensor and immediately can see not only her current glucose level, but also the patterns emerging from all the data AND the reader indicates if her sugars are going up, down (or are stable) and how quickly.  Seeing the trends is the big plus so that we can work out what works best for TD.  This is a door I am glad we knocked on.

The Libre Freestyle CGM in action!

So the year ends, and for me it has been an odd one.  The good bit about feeling that things are a bit hollow at the moment, is the potential to fill that hollow gap with whatever we choose.  I think making happy memories makes the most sense - everything else is fleeting and transient.

And with philosophical thought I will end my odd year and wish you all a very happy, memory creating 2019.

Footsteps

A sandy beach is the perfect place for gentle footsteps.  For a change of pace, I decided to take TD and her friend off to a beach.  We had to collect some pottery we had painted a few weeks before, so it seemed liked an excellent opportunity to go for a stroll on Hout Bay beach.  The girls raced to the water's edge, revelled in dipping their toes in the water, managed to persuade me to join them in a long jump game, and made "snow balls" from wet sand.  I went with no agenda, but found myself relaxing into my own pace and just enjoying my surroundings.  My Mom always liked a walk on the beach "to blow away the cobwebs."  I understand what she meant - the sound of the waves, the breeze, the feel of the sand and the wide open spaces are excellent antidotes for a busy mind.

When TD and her friend decided to climb some sand dunes, I opted out, and left them to it.  I sat and watched them from a distance, next to the nearby lagoon.  There was a flock of seagulls on the other side of the water.  Near them was a mass of something I couldn't quite make out....until I saw some movement.  The mass was a huddle of chicks, being watched over by the gulls nearby. Every now and then, one of the chicks would tentatively walk to the water's edge.  A few tried out their wings on short flights, and a couple tried to catch a fish. (one managed, but the fish was large and the bird dropped it!)

I was fascinated.  I spent a long time watching and wondering if the birds felt exhilaration at learning new skills (or feel anything at all).  I wondered if they used logic to figure out that flying into the wind is difficult, and the best course of action is to stop trying and glide with the air current (or is it built in instinct...) .I  enjoyed letting my mind float aimlessly.  It felt like a freedom to sit and watch properly for a while and not rush off. The whole scenario just seemed poetic to me.

I was, of course, keeping an eye on the girls too.  They were rolling down the dunes, burying their legs in sand, chatting and laughing.  Like the senior gulls, I was close enough to make sure of their safety, and far enough away to let them do their own thing.

Knowing how far away to sit as a parent is a bit of a skill.  Sometimes we need to hover closely and other times we need to let our children fly alone, even against the wind.  TD is tentatively dipping her toes into new waters, by trying out a CGM. (Continuous Glucose Monitor).  She has always been reluctant to use wearable technology, so last Saturday's appointment with the endocrinologist is a flight of freedom for her.  But as it is early days, I will write about that another time.

In the meantime, it is that time of year when we seem to endlessly plod through the shopping malls  and other (symbolically) hard paths.  Be gentle on yourself, and if you can, find a beach to enjoy soft footsteps and sand between your toes.