Remain. Calm.

I've had my 8th grade diabetic under my care for a month or so now. Under normal circumstances, I'd have expected her to be independent weeks ago; instead I have an unpredictable, rebellious, know-it-all teenager on my hands to whom I'm trying to stress the importance of taking care of her diabetes. It's not an easy task, and she's trying me as though I'm just another obnoxious and embarrassing adult. In the last four weeks she has: taken 14 units of insulin and then didn't eat lunch, decided on a whim that she knew how to check her blood sugar and dose her insulin on her own, left her insulin at home, and the new one today was that she left her glucose meter at home - this time with no current phone number to call for someone to bring it. I was saved by our district LVN, who takes care of diabetics and medically fragile students; she happens to have diabetes herself and we used her meter. As she was dropping it off in my office we made small talk until a few minutes before my girl usually arrives. She left saying, "I'll let you lecture her, I don't want to be here for this." That's right: my ability to lecture kids has become a well known district fact - don't make that nurse mad.

When the girl arrived, we had a good talk and I was not as intimidating as we both know I can be. I want to stay on her good side, partly because I think she's had enough negative reinforcement from me, and partly because I am hoping with positive reinforcement she'll be independent for next year's nurse at the high school she'll be attending. Inside me, however, was a different story: it was more like a stream of expletives. These kids are going to give me gray hairs and I'm going to have to start watching my salt intake if they don't start behaving.