Sometimes I get cocky and think I've got this Diabetes thing down. Of course, everytime Diabetes smacks me down and makes me its bitch. Everytime.
Rowan has had a cold. Last night, she's up sobbing because she can't sleep because she can't breathe. It was a home day. Definetly a home day. Her morning #'s were fairly high, and instead of giving her lunchtime insulin... I got imaginative.
"Let's go swimming"
Oh Diabetes, when will I learn?
I swaped her morning snack with a more substantial lunch, feeling all proud of myself that this was going to work. It did.... a little too much. I should have seen this coming.
My boyfriend says to me this morning "but you gave her insulin this morning, won't that really screw up on swimming?" Good point... damn it. So I kept that in mind, and loaded her bag of hope full of triplicate rescue snacks. Within ten minutes of swimming, she had gone from being hyperglycemic, to hypoglycemic. Out of the pool, munch on snacks, back in the pool, check her number again in ten minutes. Even more hypoglycemic. Out of the pool, munch on snacks and glucose tablets. Back in the pool, ten minutes later, check her number again: 2.5. Swimming is now over.
But my poor L'il Bones, those glucose tablets upset her stomach sooooo much. She was also full of apple juice, granola bars, rice krispy squares and jellybeans. When I had to give her another rescue snack, she just looks at me all sullen "I don't think I have room for this in my tummy".
Oh no.... doesn't matter if you don't have room in your tummy, I've got to get more fast acting sugar into her. Rare treat: slurpee. Yes, I was rather desperate, trying to get anything fast-acting into her tummy, hoping that the novelty of the forbidden would entice her. It didn't. I now have a melting orange slurpee in my refrigerator, and a kid who's so low energy I can't even convince her to sit up so I can brush her hair.
She's going to be due for afternoon snack, actually I suppose the swapped breakfast snack any minute now. I've got my fingers crossed, toes crossed, legs crossed, hell eyes crossed that I can get something into her little tum-tum.
Damn you Diabetes, you foiled my brilliance yet again. But don't be all smug about it. I'm daftly persistent. We'll meet again my pretty.