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Cool As a Cucumber

The boys went to stay in Panguitch from Wednesday to Sunday for part of their spring break fun. Saturday night I received word via Spencer that Taylor's bg, blood glucose level, was way too high. He put on a new pod and corrected and it began to go down. I received a text just before our Sacrament Meeting started on Sunday that it was at 400 and that grandma was really stressed about it. He was checking the cannula and thought it looked fine. He was out of pods, he took plenty of extra ones to Panguitch, but of course they failed. He was low on insulin, but did have syringes. Since lengthy texting conversations are not my thing, I slipped out of the chapel to call Spencer on the phone.

We decided that Destry would leave right then, go to Smith's to get a new prescription of Novalog, some pods from home and meet Leon, Spencer, and Taylor somewhere between Saratoga Springs and Panguitch. I told Taylor to give himself a correction shot and then text me with bg numbers in an hour and a half.

A friend, sitting near us who noticed all of the atypical ins and outs of the chapel by Destry and me asked if everything was okay. I told her what was going on and she, who works in a doctor's office, offered to bring home some samples of Novalog if she had some because I told her we were out 600 units of insulin. Great! I said. 

I am the Primary music chorister, I love it! I didn't want to have my phone beep so I put it on vibrate and set it on the music stand in case he texted while I was leading the music. He didn't. I had to text Spencer and ask him to have Taylor check his blood. He was reluctant to wake him because high blood sugars often equal a very cranky Taylor. He did it any way and Taylor was not grumpy and his bg had come down enough and I figured he was close enough to meeting up with Destry and a new pod that all would be well. I knew it would. This is our lives. It is what we do. None of us like it, but acceptance has come even if the ability to not worry hasn't.

I carried on with music time as usual. Sent the girls walking home from church. Stayed at the church for choir practice then walked home with another friend. I went with Emma to see her Young Women's leader who recently had a baby. Took the girls to my mom's for dinner. Spencer had already been dropped off there by grandpa and Destry stayed home with a recovering Taylor. 

Life continues, we adapt, we carry on, we change our plans and sometimes we even ask for help. Most people don't even know what it is like to have a near death experience once, much less regularly. We do. Our hearts break and we leap into action. We are grateful for every living day. Sometimes we break down, usually we don't. We don't really have time to. We already had to rearrange our schedule to save a life and then we have to run to catch up on what we had planned to be doing instead. 

Spencer handled his middle man spot beautifully, but last night he broke. He communicated to me what was going on three and a half hours away from home all the while trying to calm a worried grandmother. I gave instructions to give to both Taylor and grandparents. I eventually told him to have grandpa call Destry to figure out a meeting place. He didn't need to worry about that. He did have to make sure that Taylor was checking his blood and was still coherent. And he had to check in with me.

Taylor does not appreciate Spencer's concern; in fact, he resents it. Spencer held himself together when he needed to, but then he started lashing out at Taylor last night for unexpected things. I knew where it was coming from and I knew what he was feeling so I had a loving conversation with him. He really wanted to talk to his Dad which he also did. I appreciate his concern for Taylor. I breathe easier when I know that Spencer is near him when I am not. Taylor does not understand Spencer's concern or the lashing. It hurts him. We all live complex lives with unseen wounds. I hope I can remember that most lashing comes from an unseen hurt from within the lasher, most likely it stems from something not even related to the issue at hand. 

So, we carry on with an exterior as cool as a cucumber even when our hearts may be a hot mess.

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