'What the hell did you have to eat that you are 354???'
'Two brownie little cupcakes in class. It was M's birthday. I dosed 10g each, Mom!'
'Honey, they are at least, at the very least, 20-25g each.'
'I'm sorry, Mom, it's all my fault.'
And she cries. And I am heartbroken. The very things that came out of my mouth just then were things I never say, and I said them. So, there goes the 'never say those things' statement, right out the window. I was tired, up all night with a 12 AM high, I worked all day, it's 4:30 PM and nary a dinner idea in sight. Homeworks to do, showers. It's been a loooong day. And this is the way I'm bringing it to a close.
'OK, I will get you down. And you are due for a Pod change, so we have to change that too.'
And through tears, we change a Pod, deal with a high and figure out what she can eat, cause she is hungry and 354 and climbing. She will hit a 394 before we start to see the downward descent.
And I said the very things that I admonish myself for even thinking. I say them. To her. And they hurt her. She didn't ask for diabetes. She just wanted to eat a flipping brownie cupcake with her class.
I should have told her I was proud of her for remembering to dose. I should have said that I understand, or try to, that it's hard to be a part of the party, yet run for your diabetes kit. I should have asked if she feels shitty with a BG of 354.
I say all those things as we lay in bed later. And I say I am sorry, sorry, sorry, for being angry with the 354 BG.
And my ever-loving girl forgives me. And she holds my hand. And she is the one who understands. And looks into my eyes and says it will all be OK.