Rhemy the Racing Dog

Right now, I'm training my first Greyhound. I have never trained a Greyhound before, much less even been around one! I've only seen them on racetracks (on TV) but that's about it.

This Greyhound's name is Rhemy. She is a super sweet, mellow dog. If you want a mellow, not super-active dog, Greyhounds are your thing. They are also good apartment dogs, even though they are so long and take up a lot of space, because they're so quiet! A big misconception, because everyone assumes since they were bred for racing, that they must have tons of energy.

But actually, they just need one sprint a day at a dog park or somewhere were they can run free and they're done for the day. "Done" as in sleeping. They don't instantly recharge like other dogs do. They also don't really bark very much, so that makes them ideal as well. They are just content to hang around with you.

Rhemy loves blankets and pillows.

Rhemy came from China, where she raced in dog races. I don't really know what happened there, she seems well socialized and it doesn't seem like she was abused, although I'm sure as a race dog, they expected a lot from here.

We found numbers inside her ear. Reading up more on it, I learned that this is how they make sure they have the correct dog for the race--they tattoo it inside their ear. Can't help but wonder why tags wouldn't be enough?

She is also very skinny--even for a Greyhound. This poor dogs' ribs are sticking out and she has patches of fur missing due to alopecia. She was in a kennel a lot in China and they said alopecia is so common that they call it "kennel alopecia."

Her breath--I hate to say it--but it's the worst I've ever smelled and that's saying a lot because Ace has horrendous breath. She has a few teeth that are rotting (they're going to be removed soon) so that is why her breath stinks so bad. But in spite of all this, she is still a super sweet dog and the kids love her.

Anyway, Rhemy is an interesting dog. I've never worked with a dog like her. I'm so used to hyper dogs and having to be very assertive. Not with this dog! Greyhounds have an extremely sensitive temperment. Article after article cautions to be very patient with training and to never resort to yelling or impatience. You can get away with that with most dogs, but with Greyhounds, you can cause fear-aggression.

And it's true--wtih Rhemy, I don't need to do more than a "Uh-uh!" and that's it. She immediately puts her ears back and stops.

You might be wondering why she's here for training since she seems like such a perfect dog already.
Well, she might have a great temperment, but she doesn't know a thing. Not one command. Not "sit" "down" or "come". Not even her own name.

She has no sense of awareness. Her socialization has been very minimal--to dogs and people only. New situations--very little. Stairs--very little. (She was like a colt trying to climb our stairs.) Body awareness--none! She will stand in your way and won't "get the hint" and back off even if you are walking right into her space whereas most dogs are very sensitive about their space.

And their training capability is vey low. This is due to them being so sensitive and independent. They get bored easily and so training is hard to keep going. If you are starting to get frustrated with them, they shut down. And their independence of just wanting to hang out with you but not necessarily "work for you" makes it frustrating.

This may be the first dog that I won't be able to train.

So I'm focusing instead on building a friendship with her. If I can get her to bond with me, hopefully she will want to listen to me, and then I can establish rules with her. (She also counter-surfs--she is so tall.) If I can do this, I can hopefully encourage her new owners to just build a good relationship with her and hopefully just go from there.

So that is what I've been doing lately. Here is  short 2 minute video if you want to see a Greyhound run!



In other news, (not quite as interesting), Max's "lows" have been getting better. His doctor has switched his dose so that he's not getting as much insulin. Since then, he hasn't been having as many lows and there are some meals that he doesn't even need to dose for--which he loves!

I found out that his school is not teaching him any math (Max says he and the teachers decided to "give it up") which I can't really talk about because it makes me too upset. He still doesn't know how to multiply or divide. They were supposed to work on counting carbs with him but apparently they don't have time.

So this is something I'm trying to work on with him. He uses his calculator which still isn't like doing the "real" math, but for now, I'm letting him use the calculator. We write out what he wants to eat and then write out the carbs and then he adds it together. But I have to admit it feels like we're taking a step backwards; it takes a lot of time. Sometimes it doesn't feel worth it and I feel frustrated with how long it takes.

But what am I going to do--count his carbs forever? This is his disease, his body, so he's got to learn how to manage it.

What I want is not what He wants

God always gives me the opposite of what I want. When I want to be remembered, He lets me be forgotten. When I was to be understood, He allows me to be misunderstood. When I want to be surrounded by people, He lets me be alone.

Yesterday, I was supposed to help someone who was in need. I agreed to help because I really was the only one who was able to do it but I didn't want to. I prayed for a way out.

We woke up to a snowstorm and hollowing winds. I was so scared of going out in that storm that my hands were trembling with fear. I refused to go alone. I told God, "if you want me to do this (to help this person), you have to send someone with  me." I asked a couple people for help, but they weren't able to. So I said to Dennis, "You're coming with me, and the kids are coming too." I fully expected him to say no, because he wasn't the one who could help this person, and I also knew that going out to do this favor would inconvenience his plans for the day. To my surprise, he said, "Ok, but we're not taking the van, we're taking the truck or else we'll wind up in a ditch."

When we were on our way, the weather got so bad that it was white out conditions and we were crawling on the highway. I said to Dennis, "I think we should head back." But he said, "No, we can do this." And on we went. We didn't get out of it. And I'm thankful for that, because this person truly did need the help.

Before leaving this person's house, she asked if it would be possible for me to come help her again the next day, which is today. Of course, I said yes, but inside, I was dreading having to go back. I felt really bad and selfish for feeling this way, but I couldn't help it.

Last night, she called to let me know it looked like she would need my help for sure because her regular helper didn't like traveling in snow. I thought this was a terrible reason but of course I kept that to myself. I just told her to let me know if she needed me and I would come.

This morning, I resigned myself to helping no matter what. I saw it was snowing and that this woman would probably need help so I got myself ready to go. As I was about to go out the door, the woman called and said that her regular helper showed up even though it snowed. I was actually a little disappointed that I wasn't needed. I was ready for good conversation and feeling good about helping someone in need.

It didn't surprise me too much that things changed so quickly because it seems that that is how God works in my life. He never really lets me have what I desire.. Which I guess means that I desire the wrong things or that I'm attracted to things that aren't good for me. Which also means that God looks out for the good of my soul and is always allowing me a little suffering (or a lot) to keep me on track. If I got everything I wanted, I'm not sure I would be set bound for heaven. I know I can't fly my own plane and keep on course without God to steer the plane for me. But still, it's hard sometimes. I struggle with loneliness especially during the times of missing my former friends. I used to have a social life years ago, but that was before I truly lived my Catholic faith and I got too "religious" for them. Things got awkward and pretty soon, I wasn't included in the circle of our friends as much or invited to go out. After a while, we just let things go naturally. But I do miss them from time to time. Our views were different but we had fun together. They were good people and fun to be around.

In my heart, I know my struggle will end when I totally surrender to God, when I want what He wants. When I actively seek His will every day. But as St.Augustine said, "My heart is restless until it rests in You, O Lord" and I too, find myself restless. But hopefully one day, I will learn how to rest in Him, to not longer resist what He wants or find a way for my own happiness. Hopefully that's what we all will learn to do. Or we're never going to be truly happy.

UnPlanned--you've got to go see it!

For the first time ever, I wish more people read my blog. But I think I know of maybe two people that actually read it. I saw the movie UnPlanned today and it was very good! So you two people that read this blog, go see it if you haven't already!

(And if you are thinking "I'm already prolife, I don't need to see it", who cares-- then at least go see it to support the movie.)

I have read the book and also follow Abby Johnson on Facebook. When I read her story, it was shortly before I found out I was pregnant with Henry. It was something I needed to read because I had no idea what I was going to face. Alhough I never really considered having an abortion, I felt pressured by some (a few unsupportive friends, a doctor or two) to have one. It was an unhappy pregnancy, unfortunately. People can be cruel.

Anyway, that book really helped solidify what I already knew: that I was prolife. But reading Abby's book, reading that horrible part about the abortion, made me all the more sickened about the evils of abortion. I have never wanted to hear the gory details about abortion, I didn't feel that I needed to hear it--I was already against abortion. But as Abby Johnson said in one of her talks one day: "You owe it to these babies to hear the details of their death." And I couldn't avoid it.

I saw it in the movie. I was really surprised they showed this part. Many people that saw the movie say that there's nothing graphic in the movie. Um, yes there is, there is baby being sucked through a cannula and then the bloody remains are shown in the cannister. And then there is another part, of her in the shower, bleeding huge blood clots as the remains of her pregnancy slides down her legs. That is very graphic!

But I'm not criticizing the movie. I think they had to show these things. Because as they said in the movie (a PP worker to Abby): "You will cramp and bleed just a little bit, but it will be gentle." And this movie is about exposing all the lies of Planned Parenthood.

But the part where they sucked the baby out of the womb...during that part, the entire theater was silent. Normally you hear people munching on their snacks or whispering to one another throughout the whole movie. But not at this part. It was completely silent.

I was one of those people trying to avoid the screen, but I heard all the noise; the sucking noise and the "whoosh" of the baby as it was whisked away. I took my hands off my face to do a quick lookaround to see what other people's reactions was, and EVERYONE had a horrified, pained look on their face. No one moved, whispered or anything. No one ate their popcorn or slurrped from their pop like they had just a few moments before.  I had been eating my favorite movie food: nachos with cheese and I literally lost my appetite as I'm assuming everyone else did as well.  We all just sat there with our snacks in our hands.

I knew about this part, I read about it in the book, I heard about it in Abby's talks. But to see it--even though we knew it was only animation, but realizing that this is pretty much how it looks--it was painful, hurtful to see. The baby fought to stay away from the needle, just like Abby said. And it was just so horrible to sit and watch with popcorn and pop.

The movie was well done. I had my doubts, as I always do with low budget films, but they did really well. The acting was well done and the script was good. They stayed true to the story. And I guess the biggest thing is that if you already consider yourself prolife, then you walk away knowing all the more *why* your prolife. And if you aren't prolife, then maybe you will consider becoming prolife. Because I don't know how anybody can watch this movie and not come out at least reconsidering their views.

So, my two readers, go see this movie. It is good and well done. And pay attention to the people around you. You never know. The person sitting right next to you with pop and popcorn may just be someone that may have been considering having an abortion, and may hopefully change her mind.

Home imrpovement project: a new roof (and hopefully a new front porch soon!)

Again, it's been a while since I've done a home improvement post. So I have one for you, though not very exciting. A new roof.

It's probaby exciting to Dennis though, because he's been talking about the need to get a new roof put on since we moved in here. But new roofs cost money and so it got put on hold for a long time.

It's weird to see people perched on top of your house

Joey is unsure of what to think of all the noise.

Off the subject, now that we are getting our new roof, I'm on Dennis's case to get the ball moving on getting a front porch on the front of the house. It needs it. Doesn't it look like something is missing or something forgot to be added onto the front of the house??

This is something I wanted the minute I saw the house. I knew cosmetic stuff would have to come last since the house was in such bad shape inside--and then on the outside, Dennis insisted that before we do cosmetic stuff, we have to get a new roof on.

Well, now we have a new roof (or will have one, in the few hours hopefully.) So now I'm insisting on my new porch.

He brought up: "What about code restrictions?"

I said, "We'll figure it out!"

He said, "what if the city doesn't allow front porches?" (which is dumb but it can happen, apparently.)

I said, "We'll ask."

He said, "We really should get a central air conditioning uniit installed first...."

I said, "We're getting a front porch!!!!"

I have been (mostly) waiting patiently for six years. It's MY turn.

Goodbye, nasty ol' shingles

The front porch probably won't happen until next year, although I would love it to happen now. But with the new roof being put on, we don't have the money. (Next years tax rebate will hopefully go to the front porch.) But I'm at least going to have someone come out and give us an estimate so we can start budgeting.

We also need to repair our back balcony, another project that's been put off for years. It is literally rotting and the dogs have been chewing holes through the floor.

But today we're getting a new roof put on. That's at least one thing crossed off our list of things to do, six years and waiting.

The downside of the "support groups"--too much emotion!

So this diabetes journey truly is sort of a lonely venture...and it's not even really my disease. You have to have the disease (or be a caretaker for the person who has it) to truly "get it" and that's not to imply that those who do not have T1D are not sensitive....but it's just they can't relate and so that is one part that gets lonely.

The other part is the people that tend to truly think of this disease as such a cross. Although sometimes of course, it can be a cross and a suffering. But like anything out there that challenges us, it can be difficult and lonely.

I left one support group and joined another. This is my 3rd group that I have tried out. I still feel in need of one, however, not for emotional reasons. Only for information. They are good resources for the questions you have while you are waiting for your next appointment. Google takes too long to do research and sometimes doesn't even answer your questions. But the group does, so in that way, it's helpful.

The way it's not helpful is how so many people are so EMOTIONAL over their T1D children. Ugh, I do get it, at least I think I do. But the amount of anger and emotion is really hard to listen to. One lady posted an angry post how she felt that other parents should be more courteous of her T1D daughter and not send cupcakes to school for birthdays since her daughter can't have cupcakes (which she can, I'm not sure why she just doesn't bolus for it??) She wanted to send each parent a letter asking them to not send carb snacks for birthdays. If I did something like that, that would be social suicide. Why on earth would you set yourself up for that? Or for your kid???

Another lady posted a very angry post (against diabetes) saying "F---- Diabteses, F---- what they do to our kids..." and on and on she went. I wondered what on earth happened to make her so angry. Reading on, it sounded like her 4 year old was throwing a fit over having to insert the Dexcom (it has to be replaced every 10 days.)

Well, I'm not saying Dexcom's are easy to wear, (although I hear that pumps are much harder to wear as they do actually hurt when inserted), they do insert with a needle, afterall, and I'm sure it's a little more difficult for the younger children to understand. But from what I've heard (and seen with Max) is that the Dexom barely hurts. And I don't mean to be insensitive to this child, but I couldn't help thinking of how my kids have thrown a fit over having to eat food they didn't like, or take a nap when they didn't want to...and I didn't sit there thinking, "F---- childhood! It makes our children suffer so much when they have to do what they don't want!"

I had just commented on a post when someone complained of their school nurse helping too much with her daughter's diabetes. A bunch of people actually applauded this nurse and I chimed in with saying that it sounded like the nurse was a little "over-zealous" and just really wanted to help her child, but should of course be respecting the parents wishes for how fast they wanted their daughter to become independent.

Oddly enough, out of all the comments on there (over 70 of them), this commenter got on my case for "defending" the nurse, saying that regardless of her intentions, this nurse overstepped her boundaries and so on. Even though i pretty much had said the same thing, she just didn't like that it came off like I was defending the nurse.

So much drama!

This is the stuff that ends up making me leave,  the crazy emotional upheaval that comes with people. I know we are all different, come from different places and everything. But I don't want to fall into that sort of thinking. I don't want to be angry or depressed. I do not want to fall into self-pity. It would be so easy to do. I would gladly be done with a support group--and hopefully that day is coming soon--but I still need their help from time to time.

Anyway, this post is just a vent. Things with Max are going fine--great, even. He still has been falling a bit low every day, but nothing horrible (just 70s.)

I am teaching him to count his own carbs but this is a work in progress. Not to say Max can't do it but he gets overwhelmed easily. And the more food he has, the more carbs he has to count. Sometimes it's just easier to do it yourself, but it's good that he learns to be independent.

I can't wait for the day when we will feel pretty self-sufficient with diabetes and can handle everything on our own (with the exception of the doctor of course.) And I hope that some of these very angry people will eventually find peace with their diagnosis.

Serving our family and living our vocation--not always easy!

I always start off well with my Lent and then slack in the middle, then feel like I'm barely making it to the end. My good efforts are sporatic and are only there when I get a pang of guilt for failing on what I was supposed to give up or realizing that I haven't been doing well with prayer and almsgiving. If I could come up with one word to describe Lent, it would be: painful. It is painful to see how badly I live the Christian life.

It is also painful to see how badly I live my vocation. This is what came to mind during adoration yesterday, as I was struggling with my restlessness to be there. Vocation of wife and mother. I realized I don't even think of it as my vocation but as a job or duty.

When I think of "vocation" I tend to think of priests, nuns and brothers. They seem like they have a vocation, not me. Their life is set apart from the world, organized in a way that makes it possible to live a holy life. Not mine.

My goal in life is to take care of my family and yet somehow not kill them. I'm supposed to be an example of virtue (how to be patient, how to deal with stress, that sort of thing) but I've done anything but that. How many times have my kids seen me get impatient with them, snap at them, snap at my husband, even at times, throw things that are in my way. I have shown them how to be stressed, not patient. My life is not at all organized though I wish it were and I have tried hard to organize it by priority. It feels impossible, quite frankly.

All I have are desires but no good works to show for it. I have emptiness but perhaps not so empty that God can fill me up. There are still blocks and barriers in my soul, things I haven't given over completely to God that is making it difficult to be filled with His peace. This is my Lent this year. Painful.


As I sat there in that hard pew, in that really silent church, wondering how on earth I was supposed to live the life of a Mother Theresa in the Arganbright household (like trying to fit a square into a circle), I said (in my heart): "Here I am, Lord. Your servant is listening." I've heard this in a Bible verse, not sure where, but it seemed like the thing to say.

But then I thought, am I truly a servant? Am I truly willing to serve?

Again, that desire of wishing I were a willing servant but knowing that I'm not. Maybe this is why I struggle with thinking of my life as a true vocation, because I haven't been thinking of it in that way.

Always wanting to be straight with God, I said, "Ok. Here I am Lord. I'm listening." But this didn't sound right either.

The Bible verse came to mind:

For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, 36 I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

37 “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink?38 When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39 When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

40 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’  (Matthew 23: 35-40)

Yes, my life is a vocation and the verse above is how to live it as such, to be a servant to my family. In this, I will find peace and joy. 

But when kids are throwing fits because they don't want to go to school or husbands are getting in the way because they informed you they are taking the day off of work, thus ruining your only day to yourself (Fridays are usually my "day off" from my family, when everyone is at work and school) it is hard to find peace and joy in that. To me, this means more work. More serving. This is not always fun! 

It will be a process of learning to serve, I know. I don't yet appreciate the work in serving and that's why I haven't yet found the joy. I still struggle with wanting time by myself, wanting my routine to always stay the same. Sometimes kids, dogs and yes, the husband, screw it up by asking or wanting more of your time, for whatever reason. It is here where serving truly becomes serving, but I struggle with it.

My vocation: 

"When I was hungry, you fed me" -- feeding my family three meals a day. Not always easy, not always fun. Sometimes frustrating, especially when they don't like or appreciate you made for them. 

"When I was thirsty, you gave me to drink." Of course, here I'm thinking of all the glasses I constantly have to wash, an annoying chore, when the kids say they are "thirsty" but they actually mean juice, not water, which means I have to "make more juice" (we do Crystal Light, the real stuff is too expensive.) But maybe Jesus was also talking about the spiritual needs of our soul and taking the time to tend to them. Making time to pray, teaching about love and mercy. Encouraging the kids to remember God in their day. And probably the hardest for me, to be that example that I know I'm called to be, of love and mercy. Taking a deep breath when I feel like screaming, saying a prayer, and showing my kids "this is how we act when we feel frustrated" or "this is how we act when someone is being hurtful."

"I was a stranger and you invited me in." This is an endless opportunity for me to listen to my kids problems, listen to Dennis's plans for the day or ask about his day at work. I usually am a good listener, but sometimes I am not willing to listen. Sometimes I feel too tired to listen or even care. There are times I know God is asking me to listen to my family, to take care of their emotional and spiritual needs. This is an area I have felt prompted to work on many times; to put down the phone or turn off the computer and "invite" my family into my "personal space", to listen to them and be there for them. Not just take care of their physical needs.

"I needed clothes and you clothed me" Haha, this is almost too obvious. Loads of laundry to put away. I abhore laundry. I avoid it. And so the pile keeps growing. 

Maybe Jesus was talking in a deeper, more spiritual need. It seems that clothes are used quite a lot for symbolism in the bible. But maybe He just simply meant it in the literal sense as well. Anyway, I know where I'm slacking and so yes, I can think of the endless chore of laundry as a way of meeting the needs of my family, to make sure they are clothed well. Not just comfortbale enough, but also decent. (I am thinking of the pants that Luke wore to school today that had a huge tear in the knee. I told him to change, but he said he didn't have any clean clothes, ahem.)

"I was sick and you looked after Me." I am pretty good in this area, at least, I am at first. But after a while, when a sickness doesn't just hit one person, but goes through the long line of people in your family--or hits everyone at once and everyone is miserable--I am not so good anymore. I get tired of the sickness, the germs, the duration of whatever disease they happen to have. I get tired of the whining and complaining. I feel sick and tired myself. Just this past week, I had Henry home for a cold. He'd go to school but then the next day, he would be not feeling well enough to go. And I think the "not feeling well" but not truly sick is almost harder, in a way. The kids may not be well enough to make it through an entire day of school but not sick enough to not be a bother at home. In fact, the "not feeling well" usually makes my kids tired and cranky and I find myself having to find a way to entertain them or cheer them up. This can get tiresome when you were hoping for a day to yourself to either catch up on cleaning, run some errands, or just simply have a day to yourself. Yes, the "serve the sick" is full of opportunities to be charitable, but hard to do.

"I was in prison and you visted Me." There are many types of prisons, not necessarily the one that most of us try hard to avoid where we are literally behind bars. There is the Prison of Discourgment, the Prison of Depression, The Prison of Self-Pity, and even the Prison of Narcissism. When the kids or Dennis enter into any of these prisons, it is hard to wait it out with them, to not abandon them. It is difficult to be patient when someone is being difficult or doesn't know they are hurting you. It's difficult to have the charity to love and understand that person when they are in their prison. Sometimes, I even find myself thinking that they didn't get into that prison all by themselves. Maybe they deserve to be there. 

But of course, I have my own prisons and I know how lonely it is to be going through a difficult time and to not have anyone understand you or being waiting for you when you finally break free. I do try to wait it out with people, but it's hard.

Well, in a nutshell, this is how I realized that I do have a vocation, that I am called to serve, and that God has already prioritized and organized it all out for me. Now I just have to do it. 

Before leaving my hour, I said, "Speak Lord, your servant is listening." Yes, I am a servant called to serve God through my family. I can do this. I can! 

It is what we're all called to do and our perfect path to heaven. If we can do this, to serve with love, we will be the Mother Theresa to our family. We can be Christ to one another. 

It's not just a nice thing to say when we're feeling down. It's what we are called to do.

Another scary low

It's late and I need to go to bed, but what a day!

We've had another interesting turn in Max's diabetes. We keep being told that this is all pretty normal in the beginning, all these little issues that come up. Here I thought that the beginning (the honeymoon period) was supposed to be the easy part but it hasn't seemed like it!

So basically Max has been running low for a few days. He would have at least one low a day (anything under 80) but the weird thing is that he would get his "low" after eating. Ok, this is very weird and very undiabetes-like! Honestly, if he hadn't had those crazy highs before diagnosis, I would be wondering if Max was truly diabetic afterall.

Usually, when we eat, our blood sugar goes up but our insulin kicks in to control it. For diabetics, of course, they need insulin, but it does take a little bit for it to kick in, so it's not unusual to see the blood sugar spike up in the 200s and then slowly come down.

Well, these past two days, Max has actually had a low after taking his insulin. He ate his lunch at school the other day, and his Dexcom beeped saying he was 72. He went to the nurse, who was baffled, because the blood sugar should have been going up, not down.

Then today, it happened again. About a half hour after lunch, he came upstairs saying his Dexcom was saying he was 68 and falling fast (with a downward arrow meaning falling.) I gave him a 4 oz juice box and it kept falling. Then Skittles, then another glass of juice. It fell all the way to 52 and that is when Max begins to get clammy and sweaty. We realized that his body is tolerant only until about the 50s and then it begins to get very uncomfortable for Max. When he's in the 40s, he becomes nauseas. He hasn't been lower than 40 so we don't know what would happen if he hit the 30s. Anyway, you get the idea, so it was very scary!

I got on the phone with the Children's Diabetes to see if they could help and as we were talking on the phone, Max's blood sugar SLOWLY came back up. It took forever. I finally sent him downstairs when he was 76, which is still technically low, but it was taking so long for it to come back up and he was feeling a lot better, so I let him go but told him to come back if it began to drop again.

Anyway, the nurses changed his Basal (long-acting insulin) down to two units and then his bolus insulin another two units down. So altogether, he should be taking four units less of insulin. Let's hope that does the trick!

They said his body is "honeymooning", which means that it is producing more insulin than normal, causing him to "over-dose" himself. The problem is, we never know how much his body is going to produce, so it's a guessing game. It could go back to just trickling or it could go back to spurting, which is what it was doing for the past few days.

Honestly, these lows scare me and it took a lot for me to not let Max see how scared I was. My hands were shaking and every so often I thought I was going to lose it. Not seeing his blood sugar come back up after all that juice and sugar and just see it continue to plummet, I can't even explain it. You feel so helpless. I was between trying to figure out if I should call 911 or give him the emergency glucogon. They say you get used to this sort of thing, but I don't see how.