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January 8th, 2009
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I can feel it. Mom and I are standing in line to pay for some clothes for an event I'm going to on Saturday night with The Mr. I'm OK, but I know a low is coming.

 

I don't want to alert Mom. I don't want her to get scared for me. I look around to see if there's anywhere I can sort of inconspicuously check my sugar.

 

We walk to the car and I get in the driver's seat. I've forgotten the potential low for some reason. Must not have been too bad. I start driving. It's dark and I'm in a parking lot I don't know very well. We have to do a lot of maneuvering through the parking lot. Then there's construction on the street.

 

By the time we get to a clear place on the street, I start to feel that slightly shaky feeling that often tells me that I'm not low, but I'm dropping. It's not a full-blown low, but I know it's coming. I can feel it.

 

Mom's talking and I start to think about asking her to check my sugar for me. But it's dark and I'm driving and I don't want to scare her. I know I can make it to her house, but I also know time is running out.

 

I'm not getting that foggy feeling that often accompanies one of my lows, but my mind starts to wander. I know I can make it to Mom's house. I think about checking my sugar in the driveway as soon as we stop. But I don't want to scare Mom. I don't want her to worry that I was driving while low.

 

We get to Mom's, I grab my meter and we go inside. I practically bowl her over getting through the door so I can sit down and check. Shunk...I'm 70. Not bad, but with the slightly shaky feeling, I'm sure I'm falling.

 

"Mom, do you have any non-diet soda," I ask looking through the fridge.

 

"Is that what you drink?" she asked, not really understanding why I was asking for it.

 

"No, but you don't have any juice," I said, heading to the mini fridge in the garage.

 

"Oh, are you low," she asked.

 

"I'm 70," I called over my shoulder.

 

"SEVEN?!?" the color was practically gone from her face.

 

"Seven-ty!" I said with a chuckle.

 

We laughed, I drank a tiny soda with just the right amount of carbs, loaded my car with stuff from Mom's and then she sent me on my way. No questions about whether I felt OK or if I was OK to drive. Because she trusts me and knows I trust myself. Perhaps I should have trusted that she would be as calm as I was.



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Email this Comments (3) :: Add a comment

Hi.....Nice topic.. It will give more info about How to drive with Insulin(i.e. also too much)...
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Hi.....Nice topic.. It will give more info about How to drive with Insulin(i.e. also too much)...
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simmons
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Hi.....Nice topic.. It will give more info about How to drive with Insulin(i.e. also too much)...
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Michelle Kowalski
Michelle Kowalski, a writer, editor and photography hobbiest living in Phoenix, was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes in February 2005. In January 2008, as part of her quest to start on an insulin pump, Michelle learned that she actually has type 1 diabetes. (Read More)

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Julia
Julia lives behind the Tofu Curtain, in the Pioneer Valley, in Western Massachusetts. It's a nice place. She likes it there. Her eldest daughter, Olivia, has type 1 diabetes. She's also 13. It's a real toss-up as to which is more difficult -- the diabetes or the teen-age drama. (Read More)

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