Trip Report

Spitfire's class was going on an all day field trip, which meant I was also going on a 4th grade field trip.
After much fuss about it - including her reminding me the day before to "go to the bathroom before you get on the train" - we were all set to go Wednesday morning. I made sure she had all her supplies (she often conveniently forgets test strips and other necessary things), and off we went. The day started with an Amtrak ride to a neighboring town, which was a first train ride for many of the kids. Spitfire was buddied up with one of her many "best friends," who also happened to have a giant sweet tooth. They wanted to go to the Cafe on the train, where I applauded Spitfire's decision to get a Diet Coke instead of her first choice, a cinnamon roll. It was the last good choice she would make in the day.

At our destination, we lined up for a museum tour, which proceeded to be as boring as museum tours could possibly get. The tour guide was an elderly lady without a sense of humor. ("You will STEP off the escalator, you WILL NOT SLIDE off of it" and "I will not take questions, I don't have time.") Why someone like that volunteers to be a tour guide in a museum that hosts school group after school group, I don't know. I played with my phone in the back along with most of the parents, looking up periodically to see Spitfire turning around to me and rolling her eyes at the tour guide. After the torture session, it was free time until the ride home. 

I was paired up with another chaperone, Spitfire's friend's dad, and the four of us set out for exploring. I explained to the friend's dad that Spitfire needed to eat lunch and take care of her insulin, and while he acknowledged it, I don't think he comprehended at all what I'd said as he proceeded to stroll down the street looking for a smoothie or milkshake for his daughter. As Spitfire's nurse, I needed to convince her to eat the lunch her mom had packed, which turned out to be an impossible task. A Lunchable vs. a milkshake or smoothie? I ended up giving Spitfire three times her normal dose of insulin just to cover the sugary treats she ate for lunch. I was concerned about her blood sugar plummeting, but I needn't have worried: the kids couldn't resist the candy store just prior to the train home. Spitfire stocked up, and although I talked her into taking most of it home to show her mom, she certainly had more sugar than any regular school day. 

The class crowded a carriage car on the train home, with the kids now all eating their candy from the candy store. One child in particular was bouncing off the windows and seats, and his classmates started pointing to him and singing "He has a sugar high!" I slunk down in my seat, knowing something more about this student: he has ADHD and takes Ritalin at lunch. When I followed Spitfire, friend, and her dad down the street during the Great Smoothie Hunt, I lost sight of the student and wasn't able to get his Ritalin to him...Oops...