I brush my teeth EVERY night and EVERY morning without much fanfare. Indeed, I rarely think much of it and certainly do not view it as the monotonous chore it really is. So, it seems surprising to me that after two years of living with type 1 within our family (our 4yo son Robert was diagnosed Jan 5, 2008) that a lot of his diabetes care has become rather natural. Almost like brushing my teeth every morning.
A case in point was Robert's t-ball practice Thursday evening. Due to a last minute schedule change we ended up having guests over for dinner on the same night as our sons t-ball practice so my husband opted to take Robert to practice while I entertained our guests.
My guests and I were sitting around catching up when Robert walks in, minus his dad. I asked Robert where was his dad is and he says he had to run and go get something. I was clueless and began texting his dad wondering where he was.
Rob’s dad finally shows up and begins to tell us that practice was enjoyable. He was trying to get us to imagine three and four year-old boys and girls running around a field with various coaches in tow as they learn how to play t-ball. He said Robert ran a little low during practice, confirmed by checking his BS, so fortunately the apple juice box I had sent was just the ticket for getting him back into practice. They walked back to the van after practice in somewhat of a hurry so they could get home to our guests. For some reason, Rob’s dad placed his diabetes bag on TOP OF the van while strapping him into his booster seat. He never does this but, in retrospect, his hands were very full with sundry gear like bats, gloves, and such. Anyway, he drove off with the diabetes bag still on top of the van. As they were driving down the road Robert asked "Daddy, what was that sound?" as a knocking sound occurred on his side of the van. They drove all the way home before realizing that they had left his bag on top of the van and drove off.
Rob’s dad went back to the practice filed and searched for his black diabetes bag in the dusk hours along the roadside. When he returned, our guests and I drove to the practice fields and searched by automobile headlights. After extensive searching we were not able to find his kit!
Fortunately by 9 o’clock that night we got a call from our local pharmacy and a good Samaritan had taken the bag to the local pharmacy (Robert's name was on the insulin prescription).
Next time I am going to bungee cord the bag around my husband!