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Missing Juice

January 14, 2011

In the process of getting ready to go skiing on Sunday, we also needed to change hotel rooms.  So first I got everything together that I needed for skiing.  This included a tube of tabs and juice box.  My father was up at the crack of dawn packing his things, so he was the one who was ready to move them all too.  Along with the first trip, went the juice boxes.  I woke up in the 200s, so I wasn’t worried about being low, but my low treatment also isn’t something I would’ve sent first.  Guess what, I’m low.  (70 mg/dL: so not too low, but I need a treatment before we go skiing, and I’ve just dropped a significant amount in a short time, and I’m feeling low)

“Mom, Can you please go get the juice boxes?”
“You don’t have any?”
“I do, but they’re for skiing”
Well, we can’t find them.  So I cut into my ski supply.  After I’m feeling better, we find the rest of the supply.  And then I re-fill for the ski day.  Nothing happened.  It all worked out.  But during the in between time I was angry.  It wasn’t anyone’s fault.  But it sucked.  I wanted to be angry at someone, but I knew that I couldn’t be.  So I stewed by myself.  And I wasn’t low enough that the blame came to the surface.
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