Love, love, LOVE that swim instructor!!!

She went into the water in the 6's. I gave her a fist full of jellybeans and sent her off with some serious trepidation. I watch her like a hawk when she's in the pool, it's not as if she could crash and I wouldn't notice.

Oh... I noticed alright.

It was in the middle of a length. This is Rowan's first lesson set in the grown up pool. That cold temperature does a real number on her; fighting to keep her body temperature up, and fighting to stay afloat sends her spinning down into hypoglycemia nearly everytime.

She wants so much to be just another kid. Able to scream and splash and have fun.

Like I was saying... it was in the middle of a length, and for whatever reason she plunged deep under water. I don't know if it was the way she held her head, or if it was the lethargic posture of her body. I knew. Maybe it was the expression on her face, through the water, her little goggles on her head, and her entire face squinched in a knot. Squinched isn't a word: I just made it up. I'm the sole caretaker of a type one diabetic child, and one of the benefits is that I am now entitled to randomly add words to the English language. Deal with it... move on.

She breaks the surface of the pool, I see her chug for air. Her face goes back under. I'm standing at the pool edge at this point, less than six feet away. I'm wishing I had a change of dry clothes because I have a sneaky suspicion I'm about to be diving in.

She begins to sink. So does my heart, and every ounce of air in my lungs rushes out. She's afraid, and it's written all over her face. I am too; is it written on my face?

That swimming instructor, bless her freaking wonderful heart, she always stays with Rowan, at the minimum she's at least within arms reach. Usually closer. She's never been asked to, or instructed to. She just does. Without griping or complaining, she stands by my baby girl as she learns the front crawl. People either get this disease, or they don't. I don't know who this girl knows that's a diabetic, but she knows someone, because she "knows". She knows you can't turn your back on a T1D child swimming in a deep cool pool.

I see Rowan's arms stretching to reach the surface, all she wants to do is get above water. She knows how to, her muscles want to, in theory she's more than capable... but her blood glucose won't let her, because she simply just doesn't have the energy.

Without a word, and oh so calmly, that wonderfully empathetic swim instructor playfully plucks Rowan to the surface "You're feeling tired, aren't you?" Rowan replies "yea" kind of sheepishly.

She was such a rebel sitting on the pool edge, water up to her knees, goggles pushed up on her forehead, chugging a juice box. We know it's not allowed. But don't start with me... go ask the other lifeguard: "Just let the lady give her kid a juicebox and for the love of God, don't tell her she can't! And avoid eye contact!"

It was an interesting experience, but we survived yet another evening of swimming lessons. God bless all the compassionate people in the world who step up to help another without having being asked for their assistance. Thank you for making this world as happy as it is. It wouldn't be the same without you.

Hypo or Hyper?

We're at the local community centre, waiting for swimming lessons to begin. One of the lifeguards sees Rowan being tested, and comes over to chat.

"What type are you?" the woman asks. She should have ended the question there. But no.... she continues "are you hypo or hyper?". I try to contain my eye rolling to a discreet level. But before I can interject or say anything, my sweet precious L'il Bones has it all under control.

With one hand on her hip, she looks up to the lifeguard, and replies "I'm type ONE.... you know, the FOREVER kind." I could hear Rowan's thoughts continue "like, duh!" The womans face drops, makes some excuse, turns tail and runs.

May I be the type of supportive parent that will not squelch the attitude she dishes out in response to diabetic ignorance. You tell 'em girl!

Swimming Fiasco

Her Dad was planning on taking her swimming this afternoon. I had warned him to bring at least three juice boxes and rescue snacks. It was replied that I was being excessive, and she's been fine in the past, she'll be fine today. "I'm not going to jump out of the pool and feed her or check her every 15 min".

So my solution was to accompany them swimming. I stayed on the pool deck, the three of them were frolicking in the different pools.

Now keep in mind that she is to have a BGI (blood glucose index) between 6-12 mmol/L. Anything under 4 mmol/L is hypoglycemia and considered an emergency. Anything over 15 mmol/L is hyperglycemia, and also very problematic.

This is how the swimming adventure played out. I fed her a huuuuge lunch, beyond that allowed by her meal plan, because I knew she'd burn it off swimming in a mere heartbeat.

She enterred the pool at 4.4 mmol/L at 2pm. So I fed her a snack before she even hit the water.
The next time I tested her was at 2:14, and I had gotten her up to 5.3. At 2:28 she had dropped to 2.7 mmol/L so out of the pool again to have a rescue snack. 2:40pm she tested 3.6. Back out of the pool, yet again, for a juice box and granola bar. 2:53 she was at 1.3 mmol/L. This reading worried me, because she was absolutely zonked AND zoning out. I could ask her a question, but she wouldn't reply. Her eyes were listless and flat, the purple bags showing up under her eyes, and she was so pale. I fed her a fistful of jellybeans. At 3:07 she tested 5.3, but at 3:23 she was back down to 3.8... another juice box and granola bar which she had a hard time finishing because she was so full. Finally I gave up and declared swimming officially over.

He was boggled and agog to have witnessed this "I thought you were being dramatic" he says "I didn't realize swimming hit her this hard".

As much as I didn't want to sacrifice my two hour child-free window, I'm glad I did because she was okay. I'm also glad I did because I finally received the validation of our swimming experiences, which somehow had alluded him until today.

I'm not taking her swimming tomorrow. I'm exhausted from chasing her from upon the pool deck, testing her, pulling her out of the water, and constantly feeding her. Absolutely exhausted.