Yesterday Girl Genius and I walked over to see the Boston Marathon on Heartbreak Hill. We were later than the rest of the neighborhood, because I wasn’t planning on being there for the elite runners. So off we went, with our sunglasses, smiles, warm jackets and me with a backpack full of snacks, water, glucose and meter. And as we left I had a really awesome BG of 304 mg/dL. And I felt every single piece of it. The past two days have been a fricken’ roller coaster ride, and it’s starting to catch up with how I’m feeling. So as we walked up the street, we had this conversation:
Me: Now, I have to talk to you about something.
Me: My sugar number is really high right now, so I’m not feeling very good, so I need you to listen extra well when we get there.
Me: I think that it should get better, but if it doesn’t, we might need to leave. If that happens I’ll see you if you can stay with your friends, but I just want you to know that this might happen.
My blood sugars came down, (so much so that I was low), and we stayed until she wanted to leave. I don’t let diabetes interfere a lot, and it didn’t. But having that conversation broke my heart.