The Voice

I will start this by saying that I am really grateful I don't have to boil T's urine to check his blood sugar. Seriously, I have met many people with type 1 that spent years boiling urine to determine what their blood sugar was before they had blood glucose meters for home use. Sugar crystals don't even appear unless your blood sugar is over 200. I am grateful to have better tools. And, as grateful as I am, the tools we have aren't good enough.

Four nights ago T went to bed with a blood sugar of 99 and two hours later when I checked he was 177. The Voice in my head said "Recheck". With his honeymoon in full swing it is unusual for him to be that high. I rechecked him and the meter said 134. I breathed a sigh a relief, and thanked The Voice. Had I given him insulin, he surely would have gone low.

The next night, he was 106 when he went to bed and two hours later I checked him and was 167. I washed his finger and rechecked and got 172. Gave him his correction and rechecked him in an hour and got 160. Hmmm. I knew his hands were clean, The Voice said "Retest."

126

The Voice can't be repeated here, my Mom reads this blog.

Deciding to give his meter the benefit of doubt, I changed the battery in his meter, thinking that it might be bad. Even though it is only a month old.

Last night T went to bed with a blood sugar of 104. Cool. Normal for him. He had a low in the afternoon and I planned on checking him earlier than I normally would have that night. At midnight I checked him and got 208. Yes, his hands were clean. The Voice screamed "B.S. Retest."

82

8 freakin' 2

I fed him. Had I not listened to The Voice, I would have given him 1.6 units of insulin and rechecked him in an hour. If 1 unit of insulin brings his blood sugar down 50 points and he was only 82... you do the math. Every time I think of it I get a horrid feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I tried to sleep, but all I could think was "what if". What if, I ignored The Voice. What if, it had been the 3 a.m. blood sugar check when my brain is complete mush and I can't figure out why the stupid meter isn't working after I have all ready stabbed him twice to get him to bleed, only to realize that the damn test strip is in BACKWARDS. Turn the test strip around, but of course he has moved his finger and wiped the blood off. What if, it had been then and I had just reacted. What if, it happens in a year and I am complacent and more comfortable and I have forgotten to be vigilant? What if, my brain is so full of numbers and worry I can't hear The Voice?

The insulin, meter, test strips, pump, etc are all tools that help us keep T healthy. But I am not sure how I would do this without The Voice. My instinct, intuition, gut feeling. Even with all the "what if's", I trust it more than his damn meter.