I'd kind of gotten used to life "without diabetes." So getting back on track with testing and taking my meds is feeling a bit like an intrusion into my life. But you know what the worst of it is? Low blood sugar.

I hate this feeling. When you're running a little on the high side, it feels better. But tonight, after dinner, I tested my blood sugar and it was 60. Not terribly low, but not really where you want to be two hours after a meal.

The big problem with this is we've been eating healthy lately. We're a sugar-free household right now. We don't even have fruit in the house. The best I could find was some dried papaya I keep around for bellyaches.

So I ate what I guessed was 15 grams of fast-acting carbs worth of papaya, waited 15 minutes and tested again. 43. That couldn't be right, so I retested at 53. And I didn't even feel low.

The thought of eating more papaya, or more of anything, really didn't appeal to me. I dug deep in the back of the cabinet and found a trusty juice box left over from pregnancy. I haven't had juice in nine months now. It was grossly sweet, and past it's best-by date, but it did the job.

Fifteen minutes later, my blood sugar is back up to 68, which is close enough to normal even though I finally feel the low.

Of course, now my mouth is covered in a gross sugary-plaque fur. Better go brush my teeth and get ready for bed.