The Kid had a temperature of 102.3 and would only sleep if I was her human teddy bear.
My father had knee replacement surgery and I ate a Clif bar for dinner waiting to see him in recovery.
I was exhausted. I muffled the Dexcom under my pillow so The Kid wouldn’t wake up.
It didn’t wake me up.
Bedtime BG: 98.
12:45a BG: 39.
A stupidly large glass of grape juice and a few cookies.
1:20a BG: 159.
Temp basal of 70% for two hours. Go back to bed.
4:38a BG: 465.
Remind myself that just 8oz. of that juice is 40g of carbs. Not going to even talk about those cookies.
In the process of rage bolusing, I run out of insulin in my pump.
The Kid wakes up and watches me refill a cartridge, dose, and drink a large (but not stupidly large) glass if water.
6:45a BG: 226.
Cup of coffee. Dose for cream.
9:14a BG: crash.
My blood glucose is now back to normal this afternoon, but I’m not.
Stress + stress + stress = the sad graph on my Dexcom.
(Dad is fine, The Kid is better, and I need a long nap.)