“Aaaaaaaaaargh!” I screamed. I practically slammed my meter down on my bedside table. The Mr., who was half asleep next to me, was startled.

“What?”

“85!” I said angrily as I stomped down to the kitchen. It was 10:30 p.m. and I was in bed and in no mood to deal with a blood sugar that was too low to go to sleep and a downward trend on Dexcom.

I ate a granola bar, though I didn’t want to. And drank a few sips of milk. And took inventory of dinner: steak, potatoes, green beans, birthday cake, milk.

I went back upstairs and watched Dex like a hawk continue to go down. I reached for the SweeTarts. And then I got cranky. I could feel it all over, but I showed it by saying “I hate Valentine’s Day” after watching a commercial for jewelry or chocolates or something equally Valentine’s Day. “It’s just so commercial.”

I sighed heavily. Nearly a groan.

“I’m so tired of eating sugar,” I said to The Mr.

“Did you over-bolus?”

“Ugh. I don’t think so, but I guess I did. Also, I’m back to using my lower abdomen for infusion sites and I get such better absorption there that I guess I forget that I don’t have to be so aggressive.”

Of course, I hadn’t thought I was being aggressive to begin with.

I keep imagining that scene in Apollo 13 when Tom Hanks is trying to realign the pod and has to keep the Earth in the little triangle window. Remember how intense that scene is and how you can feel yourself gripping the seat and biting your nails and you can see the intensity in Tom’s eyes and the mental fatigue on his face when he finally gets it? That’s what blood sugar management is like.