I haven’t transferred my stress to my boy. He is unaware of the jitters I feel every three months. For him it’s about the treat he gets for afternoon tea. Sometimes there’s an early pick up from school and he feels really lucky if we are given an appointment in the middle of the day as he gets the day off. Still, he doesn’t like these appointments where he is thrust centre stage: weighed, prodded in the tummy, and asked questions. We do not have many ‘diabetes conversations’ in our house. We are too busy living our lives and diabetes slots in to that.
The numbers are good but I can’t help but think “this time”. I want him to be always under that magic number 7 but more than that , I want him to know how to cope when he’s not.
The team who are behind us are wonderful. They support us, without judgement, offering their wisdom and I know they care about us. I wish my connection to them was other than this.
There is sadness for me at the end of these days. I never know why. There’s a weariness in my bones. There’s no escape for my boy and today this makes me sad.