If you've followed our journey with diabetes from the my pump gear blog, you will probably remember the troubles we’ve had with blood sugars when it comes to sports. Soccer: probably the most stressful (for Mama). Softball: not too bad, except when C would be up to bat and felt a low coming on that was dropping with a vengeance. Dance: quite manageable, as long as I keep up with the demands of being a “D” stage mom.
Enter golf.
I’ve never been a big fan, really. I don’t even think of it in the same realm as true sports. (Sorry honey!) But, there we were this summer. All of us. Twiddling our thumbs. Trying to stay busy without spending a lot of money. We remembered the great week-long golf camp that the boys tried out last summer. It’s put on by the Los Angeles County Golf Club system. And best of all, it’s FREE!
Well, after signing up the boys again, C clearly wanted to do it too. So…3 kids, signed up for golf camp.
We prepared the D bag with supplies, extra everything. It was gonna be a HOT week up in the canyon golf course. And, without a thought, I knew I would need to do the “D mom-hover” all week. (You know, letting those in charge know about her diabetes, supplies, lows, blood sugar checking, snacks, juice, blah-blah…and then hovering and watching for signs of lows…making sure she gets noticed and taken care of.)
The husband and I drove the kids up the hill, sunscreened and armed with water bottles.
We found the registration table and proceeded to fill out the necessary release and waiver forms. TYPE 1 DIABETES…insulin dependent, I wrote across the top, along the side and across the bottom of the papers. As I handed the forms to the director, he nonchalantly tapped a device on his waistband and said, “Oh, I’m type 1 also.”
“What?” I said. “Excuse me…”
“I’m type 1…I’m on an insulin pump too.” He then turned toward C and talked with her, asking to see her pump. My eyes switched back and forth between the two of them. Same pump, different colors. C was all smiles. I was wide-eyed and looking shocked. He went on to tell us that one of the other instructors was also a pump-wearing type 1. He would make sure C would be in her group.
“This. Is. Just. Great!” I muttered. “I mean, not that you have diabetes, of course, but that…well…” I sighed a big sigh. “I think you know what I mean.”
“Of course,” he said.
We headed toward the putting green where the kids and instructors were gathering. There she was, another type 1 instructor! She went through a similar introduction about herself having diabetes, showing C her pump. Interestingly, she had been diagnosed with type 1 at the age of 30.
I wanted to hug her, simply for the fact that she must know what a parent feels to leave their child with diabetes in the care of others.
“No need to stick around, unless you want to,” she said. “We’ll do our sugar checks together…and have a snack in a little bit."
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| 3 type 1s on 1 putting green |
From the outside, this experience might just seem like a small thing. But for me, for C...it was HUGE! I stood there for a while, looking around, unconsciously breathing deeply. Very deeply. The husband turned to me and asked, "Are you alright?"
"Yes," I said. "I am."
We actually went to get a cup of coffee.
