Only 97

I did it. I let my thoughts go there. I assumed the worst because, hey, what reason do I have not to let my thoughts go in that direction?

I tested my (almost) 2 year old daughter's blood sugar, due to a quickly filled diaper.

Being diabetic has ruined my thoughts. Where most parents would say, "Hey. She has had a lot to drink today because of dehydrating meds and stubbornness of eating the solid foods placed in front of her, leading to a quicker emptying bladder.", I think "Omg. Omg. She's chugging liquid. A sign she has diabetes too! Her diaper has filled too too quickly. Frequent urination? Another sign! Omg. My baby has diabetes." Why must stupid diabetes force my mind into immediate assumptions?

So I did all I know to do (other than worry). I got out my blood sugar tester and pricked her tiny, unblemished fingertip. I squeezed out a drop of blood and put it on the strip, as she said "Ouch, mommy! Sugar, mommy? Ouch!" I waited that long agonizing 5 seconds for a result to pop up on the screen.

And I prayed.

I prayed that she wouldn't have diabetes this young. I prayed that she wouldn't ever have to understand first hand what I have to understand... to live. I prayed that the number that popped up on that screen would at least be between 90-120. I prayed. Oh, God. I prayed.

97. Her blood sugar (an after dinner one, at that) was only 97. Perfect. Not the extreme, telling high number I was fearing. Her drinking? Just because she was thirsty. Huh. Imagine that. Drinking to quench a normal thirst only and not to quench a high blood sugar induced thirst (yes. They are different.). And a wet diaper because she just had a lot to drink because of that previously mentioned normal thirst.

Not diabetes. Not my baby. Not this time.

Though this was the first time I've felt the need to act on these thoughts, I'm sure it won't be the last.

Damn you, diabetes.  We need a cure.

Struggling, but I must write this

Recent events combined with the fact that my eye is much, much worse than when I wrote this is making me just want to cry. And cry, I did. The husband doesn't understand. Other people can't understand. This means more to me than most will understand.

The eye is completely blurry now. I can't even see the computer screen with it, just the light from the monitor. Nighttime vision in the eye is horrible. Without a bright flashlight at night, I can't even go to my daughter's side to help her. I'm constantly dizzy from the uneven vision. I constantly have a headache from it, too. My favorite hobbies, reading and art, have been taken away without the vision. I have a doctor's appointment next week to see if the more serious surgery will help. Hopefully it will.

I'm losing hope. :(

Last night

Last night, we had friends over.

Last night, we had a lovely high carb dinner of pizza and brownies.

Last night, I passed out due to low blood sugar.

I tested my blood sugar around 11:30-12 last night and saw a scary 29 looking back at me. I ate 5 glucose tablets and went to the kitchen for a juice box. I got to the juice box in the kitchen, drank it and returned to the bedroom. I didn't make it. That's the last I remember.

Apparently, I fell and it made loud enough of a thud that it woke my husband up and caused the dogs to start barking. Apparently, I was talking to my husband, telling him I was low. Apparently, I ate several (more) of the glucose tablets he gave me and some of the juice he gave me. Apparently, he tried to test my blood sugar to find out how low I was. Apparently, I started fighting it. Apparently, I spit out the sugar he put between my lips and gums. Apparently because I don't remember any of this.

He called 911. He told them that his pregnant, type 1 diabetic wife had fallen and was unresponsive, due to low blood sugar. They told him they would send someone right away. He was afraid I wasn't going to make it.

They sent a fire truck and ambulance. I was told there were a total of 18 people at our house at one point, but I only saw the two that were there when I finally came to. Paramedics tried raising my blood sugar (from the 52 they recorded from when they got there) however they could, finally having to settle on an iv. According to my hands and my husband, they had a really hard time, but they did finally get one in and shot me full of dextrose (I think. That's what I was told anyways.). At some point, I started throwing up (including something blue, which, seriously? How? If you know me IRL, you know I don't eat blue foods.).

I remember thinking I was dreaming when I finally started coming around TWO HOURS LATER. These big guys I didn't know were standing in my laundry room, asking me questions (like did I know where I was, what was my birthday and if I knew the man standing next to them [I did. It was T.]). I was covered in vomit. My hands were covered in blood and one had an iv. They tested again and I was 140 something. They asked if I hurt. I said no. I stood for a while in my bathroom, shivering and disgustingly filthy, while they finished paperwork. A hot shower was such lovely thing to look forward to enjoying. They asked if I wanted to go to the hospital. I started to say no, but then wondered if I should for the baby. They thought I could just call the dr today and see what he thought. So I didn't go to the hospital.

I am fine now, just sore. Last night certainly scared me and I know it scared my husband. If it weren't for him, I'd be a blue candle (any time a life is lost to diabetes, parents of children with diabetes - and diabetics themselves, change their profile pic to an image of a blue candle). He saved my life. He saved the life we created together. Without him..... I don't even want to think about it.