Woman, Independent Parent, Artist, Advocate, Artifical Pancreas.... and EVERYTHING in between.

I am blessed to be parenting two beautiful girls, ages eight and eleven. My youngest nearly lost her life at age six (August 2010) to diabetic ketoacidosis: an often fatal consequences of undiagnosed type 1 diabetes. This is OUR journey: raw and sometimes, uncensored.

Thank you for visiting wishing good health and a cooperative pancreas to you and yours.

Thursday, November 17, 2011


November 17, 2010.

Had you asked me then about my daughter wearing an insulin pump, my answer would have been a resolute "NO!"

I wasn't quite anti-pump in theory, but at the time, I was very anti-pump for MY daughter.

Maybe it was because diagnosis itself was so overwhelming. Maybe it was because I didn't want my soft and squishy 'baby' to be a cyborg; attached to a machine 24/7. The thought of her sleeping with something attached to her, something IN her was just too much. Maybe it was because I felt that one or two needles a day was enough to be imposed on a six year old, as opposed to how I once described it: "having to harpoon her every third day"

I was a firm believer in the freedom of individual choice. Type 1 diabetes, while our journeys are very similar, we're all walking our own individual path. It's about choosing the best treatment method that allows the child (or patient) to succeed on said path. To thrive.

I don't know when I began feeling otherwise.

November 15, 2011

I am ready for my daughter to begin pumping.

Notice how it's "I" not "we". She's not quite on board with it. However, I still firmly believe that it is her body, her disease, HER choice. Enough has been imposed on her, without me selecting a treatment out of 'convenience'.

But still, I planted the seed. I've been watering it, nourishing it, seizing my opportunity to promote it's growth, all in the hopes that she may one day have a change of heart.

I am eager at to attend this week's endocrinologist appointment to INQUIRE what sort of preliminary steps are necessary, should we ONE DAY choose to change methods (from that of the old-school syringe).

November 16, 2011:

It occurs to me, with Rowan's temper, that I should give her the courtesy of warning her that I plan on inquiring about the pump. A pro-active step against a mid appointment meltdown (always an interesting experience).

"Rowan, when we see the doctor on Wednesday, I'm going to ask her what we need to do ahead of time if you one day decide you want to go on a pump"

"Mama, I don't know WHAT you're talking about. I've been telling you for months that I want to start pumping"

Please, someone tell me that the perceived 'months' in a mind of a seven year old is a very different period of time than for that of a 38yr old. I am confident I never heard the sentence "I want a pump". Was I in the room my sweet l'il girl, when you shared this revelation?

The deal is done. The paperwork is submitted. The LadyBugs are anticipating the arrival of an insulin pump in our reality before this Christmas. A month and a half away! Though that could be a year in Rowan's time.


Turn and face the strange, ch-ch-changes.

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