I sigh as I pop the lancet into the sharps container. I pull out the little glass vial and a syringe. I draw up the insulin, and flick the syringe repeatedly before squirting it back. Finally, I draw it up to 1...2...3... marks past the 5. So 8 units. I consider that my daily dose is at least twice what is was a month ago. And these stubborn highs? Oh, and the dawn phenomenon. I woke up at 123. Then a 95, a 94 (yes!) and then 199, 199...
Diabetes is stressful.
We do all these little things, and doubt our judgement. We have no idea what will happen when we mess with Lantus and Basals.
We aren't always "fine."
We look fine, we act fine, we sound fine. If it's not "fine" it's "great."...but it really isn't. One day could be ruined in a split second... One extra unit could cause a scary hypo. One unit short will leave us weak and thirsty.
We need awareness.
We take control by writing our blogs. We support each other. We endure the sugar police. We cause so much confusion. It doesn't matter if we have it or if our family has it, we go through more than we think.
Your help is appriciated.
Sometimes that meal is impossible to carb count. or guess. Sometimes we can't stick another needle in our stomachs. Sometimes we forget to bring sugar with us.
There isn't a cure.
That's why it's hard, and important, and scary.
But we have amazing support.
Thanks to all the other diabetics, we know we aren't alone. When we're 32, so is somebody else. We can cry to the other people going through this, and vent, laugh, share... they know. I am so grateful to know so many great diabetics. They. Are. Awesome. We have our differences. We're type 1s, 2s, and their friends and family. We're kids, teens, and adults. We're having trouble with our numbers, or we rocked the last A1c. It doesn't matter. We're all here.
Keep fighting diabetes. We got this.