So the girl and the mom and the dad were visiting some friends in Los Angeles. The friends were nice enough to let me stay, even though they don’t like dogs. They know that I serve a purpose. And boy did I prove that the night we stayed with them.
The girl didn’t feel like eating much for dinner, so the girl only had a total of about 10 grams of carbs. Instead of her usual 35-45. So why is this important? Well, if the basal rates (insulin she gets all the time) and the bolus rates (insulin ratios for carbohydrates) aren’t right, the the blood glucoses aren’t going to be right. And guess what!?! They weren’t. But. That’s why I’m around. Another teachable moment. This time for the mom and the dad.
Anyways, the girl was 119 before bed. The mom and the dad knew that was too low for bedtime so they gave her a glucose tab. Usually that would bring the girl up a lot. 50 pts or so. At least to a level where they could get some sleep. The dad set his alarm for four hours later.
Two and a half short hours later. I knew something was wrong. I got out of my kennel and woke up the mom. Then I went and woke up the dad. Sure enough. The girl was 101. The dad got the girl a glass of orange juice. Now that stuff *always* sends her sky high. So the dad thought. Ok. No worries. Back to bed. The dad reset his alarm for three hours later. He should have known that *always* is never always when it comes to Type 1 Diabetes!
An hour and a half later, I had to wake the mom and the dad up again. It took me a while but I refused to be quiet. The dad had assumed I was just wanting more Cheerios. And that the girl had gone high. Wrong! By the time the dad got up and checked, the girl was 77. Yeah. That’s a problem. This time the girl got a big juice box. Too big. Ugh! The dad again set his alarm for three hours later.
So sure enough, an hour and half later I had to wake the mom and the dad up again. This time the girl was 203. And she needed a small correction of insulin to get her back down in range. The mom and the dad gave up and just stayed up after that I think. Whatever. I don’t care. I went back to sleep. The girls bg was fine by that time. It gave the mom and the dad time to examine all the basal and bolus rates for the girl and make some changes to the pump’s programming. To hopefully get things right! Well, and by right, I mean, right for a while. Until the girl changes. And then they will be wrong again. And then I will be right. With my alerts. And this cycle will go on a for a long time. You get the point. Right? Right? Yes.
The mom and the dad drank a lot of coffee the next morning. It was a good morning. For me and the girl at least. The girl was 116 before breakfast. I was proud. And rightfully so.
Now. Off to sleep for me. Off to work for the mom and the dad.