Last Saturday Ian had the best diabetes day he’d had in over a week.
After a few weeks of fighting lows, Ian was fighting highs in the 200-350 range and his doctor insisted we get some trends before tweaking his meds yet again.
So when he was in his range all day Saturday and got through his basketball game still in his range, we were feeling pretty good.
We had the game, played outside on a rare warm winter day, spent the evening with friends, ordered pizza and still stayed in the range.
I went to bed feeling normal and happy.
So at 2:00 a.m when he was 330…I started to freak out.
I felt like it was a huge slap in the face.
A sucker punch in the middle of the night.
So much for a perfect day, I thought to myself.
I laid in bed and worried for the next half hour…
What did I do wrong?
Did I mess up his meds?
Not count carbs right?
And then I stopped and I thought….
Wait a minute. This 330 doesn’t change a thing. Our day is not ruined. It was still a perfect day. This number right now has no bearing whatsoever on the past. The past is the past. And it was lovely. It was a lovely day with friends and laughter and pizza and a ball game that ended in a tie. I can’t let this 330 at 2 a.m. change my memories of the past.
And I fell asleep.
When I woke, I noted the number in the logbook and we began a new day.