The high that is endless. Flippin' endless it seems. Almost a day now.
We are talking 250, 268, 230 and now to top it all off, we have a new contestant in the game - a 386 after a morning breakfast of homemade pumpkin bread. I hate that darned pumpkin bread. With a passion. I don't know how many carbs are in it as it's homemade, I keep increasing what I do bolus her for it and it never seems to be enough, I hate carb-guessing. I even did a +30% basal rate extend for 2 hours on top of the gigantor bolus I gave her, and nothing - we got a 322 an hour later. Yes, yes, yes, coming down, but I want a number 1 on this roulette wheel of diabetes darn it!!!!!
I was mad this morning. Mad at the high. Mad at the numbers. Mad at the D.
I kept repeating to Grace that I wasn't mad at her, but mad at the diabetes. Mad that it will take all day, I just know it, to bring her down to an in-range number. It will interrupt our day. It will interfere with what we want to do. It just stinks today.
Then I felt so bad about being mad at the diabetes. Even though I tell her that I am not mad at her, it still stings. She is the one with diabetes, so if I am mad at diabetes, aren't I just a teensy bit mad at her? So hard to separate the two at times. Now I feel guilty and bad. Not my typical mood.
Today, I really don't like highs.
And I really don't like numbers.
And I really love my daughter.
And I really don't like diabetes much at all.