Chugging along

The lovely Mark, Mary, and Masa are down from Vancouver and taking such fine care of us. Michelle P. making special guest appearances (like a biker angel bearing beautiful boxes of samosas!). Tom and Marky Messenger will be here later in the week.

Matty has gotten out for a few skis and hikes, some with the boy, and this is a blessing. They are learning about blood glucose testing in the field and insulin injections on the tailgate. Matty just missed being in an avalanche at Mammoth Mountain last Friday. The run he and our friends Ray and Lesley were on gave away few minutes after they skied it. Luckily, nobody was buried in the slide. There are blessings.

We still have some fine tuning of the blood sugars and our pediatrician is doing her best to work with Children's Hospital LA and to get us in their program. The boy had a motor, language, and cognitive skills test last week and did very well. This means he doesn't qualify for some of the special programs Inyo County has to offer, but it was lovely of the agencies to try to help. We will get to see a developmental pediatrician who comes through the area once a quarter. Every little bit of education and monitoring will help.

Wyatt gets frustrated some mornings, especially after breakfast. Those are the hardest insulin shots to give. We just try to explain that the shots will help him grow up to be a big boy. He is learning about anger and we are learning about patience. He is still our happy healthy active wee boy 99 percent of the time. The funniest thing he does these days is to sing "and called it macaroni and cheese" to the last line of "Yankle Doodle."

He is eating a boatload of food. Newly diagnosed people tend to do this.

I officially get off the crutches after New Year and am looking forward to just being on the cane. Bone is very slow to grow back, but I am right on schedule. I am driving on the days that I haven't had a Percocet.

We are still having a poker potluck tonight (with kim chee pancakes and veggie stir fry) and still putting our kegerator through its paces. It is still life as we mostly know it, but only more so.