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Traumatic Life Experiences Cause Odd Coping Habits

Dear Diary,
I’ve noticed an aftershock of Madelyn’s Type 1 Diabetes diagnosis.

And I think, when you learn how to solve a complicated equation to determine an insulin dose, draw it into a syringe, then inject your toddler – you develop odd coping mechanisms.

I’ve been drawn lately to medical oddities.

Especially antiques. The history of it all, the story and then, how it’s contributed to modern medicine.
I purchased this poster from Madame Talbot, who hand illustrates each piece and I deeply admire her talent. Her works are sold in the infamous Mutter Museum in Philadelphia, and has since been added to my list of places I must tour at some point (same goes for the Pharmacy Museum in New Orleans).

I’ve become friendly with a colleague whose training as a nurse lead to some of the most interesting conversations I’ve ever had in my life.

Like did you know, that if you drink a ton of apple juice before you go to bed, the natural chemical compounds will cause you to have very vivid, very awesome dreams?

Or, if you’re deathly allergic to Brazil nuts you shouldn’t have, ahem, relations with someone who had just eaten Brazil nuts because the result of said relations can trigger anaphylaxis.

And, there is a roller coaster at Disney World (Big Thunder) that will help you pass a kidney stone. There is a published, peer-reviewed paper that discusses the correlation between where you sit on the ride and the size of the kidney stone, and the ride will help you pass it.

My children’s pediatricians have mentioned how detailed I get when I bring them in for sick visits.

“Have you considered getting a stethoscope?” They’ve asked. “I know just by what you’re telling me that your child has pneumonia.”

Tip – press your ear against your child’s chest as he’s breathing and if it sounds like crinkling bubble wrap, it’s probably pneumonia. Even with this, I strongly encourage you to take your child to the doctor for a proper diagnosis, prescription and treatment plan.

I can tell if my kids have a fever by pressing my face to theirs.

And while I never thought my experiences of motherhood would include drawing and administering injections, it’s a part of it just the same.
Researching medical history has provided me with small comforts. I’m so glad Madelyn was diagnosed with such a serious illness when she was, rather than 100 years ago considering insulin wasn’t isolated for human use until 1921. Back then, a diagnosis of Type 1 Diabetes was a death sentence. I am fully aware of how odd it is to write something like that, especially a mother in regard to her child, but it's an admission I cannot deny. Today, it’s simply something Madelyn sees as a “blip” she must overcome before running off to play soccer.

I’m so glad insulin pumps today are the size of a credit card, rather than a full backpack-sized behemoth of the 1960s.
It’s crazy to consider the chronology, but at once, a journey I’m grateful happened. Because it contributed to Madelyn’s successful management, and she enjoys a full childhood because of it.

Both of my kids are healthy because of it.

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