My blood sugars seem to have a mind of their own (more than normal) these past few days. I'm bouncing all over the place, doubting my meter's accuracy, and questioning my own ability to manage this stupid disease. I can't seem to stabilize and insulin doesn't seem to be working the way it needs to. Worst of all, I think it's really wreaking havoc on my body as my fatigue has increased and I'm waking up with sore throats.

Last week I noticed a few bouncing numbers, but nothing out of the ordinary. I'd been running high trying to get my insulin stabilized and figure out my problem areas. I'd also been snacking too much before bedtime for fear of lows since I was going to sleep with numbers like 104 and 111. Those left my morning numbers high setting my days off on the wrong diabetes foot.

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Kristian Hedberg

I knew that I hadn't checked my blood sugar in hours. Last time I did, I was 100 so I just didn't worry. I enjoyed a small dinner, judging my carbs to perfection. I carried on with my night.

Right before I fell asleep, I thought I should check my blood sugar just to be safe. I was feeling a little funny, minor thirst, minor nausea. I checked at 502. I haven't been above 500 in over a year.

I bolused like normal, wondering if my infusion set was the problem. I had changed it earlier, but I blew it off since I was 100 after lunch (and hours after the set change). I set an alarm to wake me up in two hours to make sure I was heading down.

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Charlie took a swig of his water, scraped his tongue with his teeth and contorted his face as if he’d just ingested lizard juice.

 "Dad, does everyone get ketones?"

"No," I told him. "I think mostly just people with diabetes."

Charlie stared at his water bottle and said nothing more on the subject. His lips, that wanted nothing to do with the water, were dry and colorless.

"Charlie, you have to drink the water," I said. "We need to get rid of these ketones."

"But it tastes terrible," he said. "The water doesn’t taste normal. I think it’s the ketones."

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(15 days ago)

Susanne reminds me that these days will happen.

So, I'm trying not to dwell on it. I'm trying to write this day off and look forward.

I'm trying to forget the horrible look on Charlie's face while he dips half of his head into a bucket, coughing and spitting out toxic ketones.

I'm trying to forget that this could have been avoided if we woke up just one more time in the middle of the night to correct him.

I'm trying to forget how he curls up on the big, brown chair, riding out the discomfort.

I'm trying to forget that not even Christmas would get him off that chair right now.

I'm trying to forget how quickly the ketone strip darkens to purple.

I'm trying to forget purple altogether.

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We did everything we could. He just wouldn’t ever come down.

This was a night from hell.

Shot #1.

519 at bedtime. He was in no mood for a shot. He became irrational - fighting us.

"Do you want to be 500 all night?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to spend the night in the hospital?"

"Yes."

He knocked his head on the wall repeatedly as I searched for a spot to stick him.

"Charlie!"

Shot #2

Midnight. Blood sugar soared back up after coming down just a bit.

"Not good," I called to Susanne.

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I think he's just about had enough.

If I went through what he goes through, I suppose I would too.

Two days of low ketones that wouldn't go away no matter how hard we prayed for mercy. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Two days home from school. Maybe a third tomorrow. High blood sugars and ketones that proved to be an omen for one hell of a nasty cold.

He's had enough of the long, sharp needles in his ass and the tiny sharp needles in his fingers. Our constant handling of his pump like he's some sort of appliance. Out of defiance yesterday, he wouldn't let me near his pump because he couldn't eat what he wanted to eat. He took a stand against the injustice.

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