A few nights back I was tired, the kids had gone to bed and I was trying to read my 8 chapters in my book for business ethics. I kept nodding off, over and over, maybe the reading was boring, quite possibly because I had read the same sort of stuff the first time (second time around) at college. The last time in college I took religion and philosophy, so I found the books somewhat familiar. My wife was gone to some kind of home party thing and it was closing in on 10 pm; I went to bed. That’s always the start of a diabetes story for a d-parent. Let me tell you about the decision time.
I grabbed the CGM and towed them to bed with me. Little-boy was sound asleep, that was good, CGM were telling a good tale, so I was sound asleep in minutes. However, my wife woke me up a half hour later. I fell back to sleep quickly after she ask me if I was keeping the CGM’s on my side of the bed. I keep them.
I slept pretty well until 1 am when nature made a collect call. Quickly I fell back to sleep after my bathroom encounter with the toilet. But, once again, diabetes played the villain, the antagonist, the great annoyance again.
I heard the Dexcom squawk loudly, I woke up pretty fast. I raced upstairs and checked older DD’s BG. 50 something! I gave her some juice and went back downstairs. After setting the glass back on the counter, the stinking microwave told me it was 4:17 am. I told the microwave off, it made me feel better.
However, the decision was two-fold, reset my alarm for 6 am or leave it at 5:30 am. 6 would give another half hour of sleep, but 5:30 would give me time to drink my coffee slowly and gobble my cereal down at a civil pace. I picked 5:30.
I got up, fired up the Keurig and made some Green Moutain dark roast and sipped away. My day went pretty well. I felt about as rested as I could. I was out the door by my magic time of 6:25.
I got home and the kids to wanted ride scooters and my wife had to hit the grocery store. I fired the Keurig up again and made more Green Mountain. We played outside until little-boy ate some gross crusty dirt, at least I hope it was dirt. While cleaning his mouth out he bit me a few times. Eighteen-month-olds do that, very well I might add. I even fixed a hypo in the middle of all that.
All in a days work I guess. The days goes better when you make the right call. Slowly sipping away at that coffee was a great call. Now I going to sip away at a couple of Brooklyn Lagers, slowly of course.
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