Snow?

As I watch the snow begin to fall on our already beleagured neck of the woods, I'm headed downstairs to dig out the snow shovels and boots.  A crock-pot of stew is bubbling, and we're trying to reconcile our quick transition from hurricane season to snow season.  In case you too are engaged in a sudden search for your sleds and snow pants, I thought I'd reprise a post from last winter:

There's been no sledding yet, but in winters past, it's been our nemesis. The initial experience of being very cold, combined with the thrill of the hill causes an adrenaline rush for my child. Her body is fighting off the chill and the fear. Her blood sugar skyrockets. Then, usually suddenly, her body realizes that she's just spent an hour repeatedly climbing a hill. Were there a life-sized graph of this decline, it would be the best sledding hill ever.

I periodically dig the meter out of my inside coat pocket, where I've (hopefully) stashed it to prevent the "I'm frozen" error message. We test and correct, or treat with something unfreezable like glucose tabs or smarties, and she's off again.

I can't really figure out a better way to manage this situation. Upping the insulin prior to sledding would, I think, just exacerbate the low later on. Testing more often is always a great diabetes management tool. But testing while sledding is near impossible. The mittens, the snow, the wind, the lack of anywhere to put anything down, the numb fingers and their related bloodlessness all combine for an unpleasant five minute ordeal.

So, if we get any significant snow here, we'll need to pack up the meter and the smarties (along with the sled), and head for the nearest hill. We'll manage the diabetes the best we can. I'll stand at the top of the hill, and each time she appears, I'll say, "feeling ok?" or "need to check?" Eventually, I'll force her to stop. She'll be high and correct about half of it. Twenty minutes later, she'll be low and have smarties. We'll bring enough to share with her friends.

Sledding is a rare treat, and in my opinion, we do the best we can while being practical. If she decides to join the Olympic luge team, we'll need to come up with something better.

When my daughter returns home today from what could turn out to be her only full day of school this week, some hot chocolate will be in order for both of us, I think.  And perhaps tomorrow, she'll sled before it melts into a slushy, muddy mess!