Tetherball

A couple of weeks ago, my daughter found herself explaining the need to keep her pump attached somewhere under her costume for the school musical.  It brought to mind this post from a few years ago:

My daughter had a softball “workout” a couple of weeks ago.  All of the girls playing this spring were summoned to demonstrate their skills at batting, catching pop-ups, and fielding  grounders.  Groups of 5 at a time entered the gym to be evaluated by at least that many adults.  Based on their skills, the girls were sorted into evenly-matched  teams. 

Fielding grounders is my daughter’s best skill.  She can hit when she gets in a groove, but given the amount of snow on the ground, she hasn’t swung a bat since October sometime.  And she’ll readily admit that she can’t catch a pop-up beach ball, let alone softball.  So she was excited to demonstrate her infield skills. 

I was not allowed in the room, but as she tells the story, here’s what happened:

Someone bounced a grounder to her.  She was ready, leaned down, and got it.  Then her pump fell out of her pocket.  She threw to first, grabbed the pump and stuffed it deeper in the pocket of her sweats.  From behind her, comes the coach’s voice.  “Can I hold that for you?” 

Diabetes has been part of my daughter’s life since she was 13 months old.  And it’s always been interesting to watch how she responds to people responding to it.  She tends to be very matter-of-fact about the whole thing, and is developing an increasing vocabulary to answer questions and to respond to potentially awkward situations.

“Um…well…actually, it’s attached to me.  So I don’t think that would work too well, but thank you.”

I couldn’t have said it better.  

Of course, on the way home, we became hysterical envisioning her fielding grounders while the coach tried to hold the pump. 

Tetherball, anyone?

Dinner?

Softball poses its own unique diabetes challenges.  For my daughter, game-related blood sugar fluctuations are predictable and we've learned how to manage those.  Her pump goes in a fanny pack and is nicely tucked under her uniform.  She's learned to find moments on the sidelines for quick blood sugar checks, and the roomy softball equipment bag has plenty of space for the meter, glucose tabs and a juice box.  At least one parent is always on the sidelines. We're cheering, but also ready to jump in should any diabetes needs arise.

The issue which seems unresolvable is the timing.  Weeknight games start at 5:30, which means warm-up begins by 5.  We're usually not home until 7:30 or 8.

I can only assume that every child plays better when fueled up.  Mine definitely needs something in her system before a 2-3 hour sporting event.  Ideally, she'll have a well-balanced combination of protein, and carbs with a healthy vegetable thrown in for good luck.  Ideally, we'll bolus this meal just right, leaving her a few carbs to burn off during the game until that nice bit of protein kicks in to sustain a lovely blood sugar through the 6th inning.  Ideally, this resulting steady blood sugar will provide her with the energy and focus she'll need to play well and have fun.

So, here's the question: does she eat dinner at 4:15 in the afternoon?

The answer has to be 'sometimes.'  Ideally, she'll eat dinner before the game, despite the early hour.  She feels better and plays better. Her blood sugar responds better throughout the game and into the evening.

Sometimes a pre-game dinner is just not possible. Today she has team pictures before the game, which would move dinner time to about 3:45.  Other days she has after school activities until game time, or homework which needs to be done before she's completely wiped out.  On these days she has to make do with a hearty snack such as yogurt and fruit or a quick pb&j in the car. 

Diabetes does not prefer 'sometimes.'  It prefers a set schedule.  Yet from time to time, we need to be flexible.  With a little planning we can be flexible and keep diabetes in its place at the same time.

Adrenaline 2

My previous post described our experience with adrenaline when my daughter performed in the school musical last weekend.  The excitement and anxiety of performing resulted in a large spike in blood sugar.  The spelling bee, amusement park rides, and other big moments have resulted in similar spikes.  Yet there are circumstances in which we'd expect to see an adrenaline spike and do not, such as this weekend's other stressful event.

In the midst of her busy play weekend, I dropped my daughter and my husband at softball practice at 11 a.m. on Saturday morning.  I returned an hour later to find my daughter with an ice pack and a growing bruise near her eye.  She didn't catch the fly ball.

This scenario involved physical trauma, fear and embarrassment.  It seems to me that this would be a perfect trifecta of adrenaline production.  For her? Nothing. Her blood sugar was 81 after practice and didn't spike until her performance later that afternoon. 

There is a long list of areas in which people's experience with diabetes varies.  Foods which are disastrous for some pose no difficulty for others.  Exercise may cause a slow and steady drop, or it might cause a spike followed by a later crash.  Low and high blood sugar symptoms differ greatly from person to person.

It becomes a matter of tracking individual experiences and learning the patterns. We learn the basic science and execution of it all from our health care team.  We read and listen to the experiences of others with diabetes.  Yet diabetes management also involves a great deal of 'learning by doing.'

We hope not to have a repeat of the softball to the face incident, with its resulting black eye; particularly not hours before the school play.  Perhaps, though, we've learned something about the difference between physical and emotional trauma in their ramifications on my daughter's blood sugar.