Today Daughter had a softball tournament 85 miles away from here. We were on the road at 7:15 to get her there on time. She got a base hit and scored a run, handled a couple of balls at 2nd base, and generally had 2 good games. She came home with a gold medal, as her team won both of their games. I kept score. It's been a very long time since I kept score, but I did it, and managed to keep track of who was batting next and who won, though I'm not sure what the final score was in the first game.
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Far Away Sister talked to Nurse at Dad's assisted living place today. As we thought, he was in very bad shape last week, and Nurse didn't think he would survive. Sister still doesn't get it, but Nurse said that's not unusual for family members to be in denial. She thinks Dad is a candidate for hospice. His weight was down 2 pounds today, and she said he looked better than he had for a while, and wasn't short of breath.
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Daughter is on the waiting list for supported living. I really struggle with whether I want her in that kind of setting. There is a woman, S, on the team who is also diabetic and lives in supported living. Monday night she arrived for a 6:00 game and hadn't eaten supper or even had a snack. The staff person who dropped her off wasn't too concerned about it. She knew she'd have a sandwich after the game (8:00). S checked her blood sugar, and the coach asked me about it. It was low enough I had Daughter give her some peanut butter crackers so she wouldn't drop during the game.
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Today they sent S to the tournament with a snack. A reasonable snack to prevent lows is 8 crackers with cheese or peanut butter (4 cracker sandwiches). They sent 3 plain crackers. They didn't send her meter with her, and she complained several times about not feeling well, but with this woman, that doesn't necessarily mean anything. Now Daughter is higher functioning than this woman, so she could be a better advocate for herself, but I still don't think I could trust them with her care. There is just too much at stake.
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One of the staff people from the agency that staffs the house S lives in took Daughter to the area track meet last spring. She hadn't bothered to read through Daughter's material, and didn't know she was diabetic. I gave her a quick lesson on how to use the insulin pen and explained that Daughter had a book that listed carbs in fast food and how to calculate her insulin for lunch. When Daughter came home, her blood sugar was sky high. The staff member didn't bother to figure out carbs or calculate her insulin. Daughter wasn't about to correct her, because she wanted to eat everything and not worry about it. I was not happy, to say the least. I just asked the agency to arrange some more people to stay with Daughter. I had very mixed feelings about it, as they will have to handle at least one meal. It's frightening to entrust the care of your diabetic child to strangers, especially when the strangers don't even bother to read the orders for caring for Daughter. I wonder if I will ever be able to let go and allow her to move into supported living. I wonder if it will ever be safe.
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