I've gone back and forth about whether to wear a medical ID bracelet. Part of me says I shouldn't bother because once a paramedic friend of mine told me one of the first things they do to a person who has passed out is to check their blood sugar. Part of me says I should wear one as an extra measure of caution.

I wore a medical ID bracelet throughout my third pregnancy. I don't think I ever took it off -- not in the shower, not for exercise, nothing. I don't remember why I stopped wearing it. Perhaps I lost it. In fact, now that I think about it, I think that's exactly what happened. I had removed the ugly silver chain and replaced it with strands of colorful beads to match whatever I was wearing. Well, the chains and clasps were cheap and ...

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This is not the post I planned to write this morning.

Having a nearly one-hour commute (everyone flees the city in the summer, so traffic is much, much lighter) often gives me a lot of time to think. This morning I thought about what a crappy mood I had been in on Sunday and that it had carried over to this morning.

I tried to blame it on the kids: a four-day weekend trying to keep the kids entertained and not arguing and generally not getting on my nerves is exhausting.

I tried to blame it on AF: though she has left the building.

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I must admit that I do wonder how in the *&%^ing world Broncos quarterback Jay Cutler manages his sugar during what I can only assume to be an intense several hours every Sunday. I asked a friend of mine, who has type 1, how she managed her sugars when she recently ran a marathon. They were, predictably, up and down. But from a novice's standpoint, it seems like she may have had more luxury of stopping to treat a low or deal with a high. There are no TV timeouts in community marathoning, though.

When a professional sports team – and all that comes with it including your job, sponsorships, advertising, ad nauseum – are essentially riding on whether or not you can throw a football to a guy 50 yards down the field without getting sacked, the stakes are a little higher.

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Here it comes. The flood of tears that I couldn't hold back anymore. I could feel it way back in there but thought they would pass.

The Mr. calls and can hear the stress in my voice and I don't try to hide it.

"What's wrong," he wants to know.

"I have no idea," I say. "I guess it's hormones. I just feel like I'm going to cry and I have absolutely no tolerance for the kids acting like... kids. I just want it to be quiet and for everyone to follow directions the first time and to not have to tell anyone to STOP IT! or to SIT DOWN AND FINISH EATING. Basically I want to relinquish my Mom Duties for a while."

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Many eons ago when I really started the push to get a DexCom, my rep asked me how often I test every day. I didn't have a hard-and-fast number to give him.

"Um... between four and 10," I said.

"That's quite a range," he joked.

Since then, I've become obsessive about checking my sugar, which is a state I haven't been through in a long time. Part of the reason is because I really love to eat. So instead of waiting for two-hours after a meal to eat, sometimes lunch carries on throughout the afternoon. Which makes me think that I don't need to test.

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Overall, I like the Dex. I like looking at a nice, steady line first thing in the morning that confirms my overnight basals are set right. I like watching a pretty, pregnant rise and fall on the Dex showing that I've dosed appropriately for a meal. I like being able to push one button quickly while I'm working to see if I'm rising, falling or holding steady — I'm spending less time testing. I like that most of the time Dex is pretty close to my OneTouch.
 

I like that I found out I may be experiencing dawn phenomenon based on one morning's unexplainable rise from the 90s upon waking to the 150s before breakfast. Which reminds me that I'm not doing anything wrong before bed and that I may need to adjust my early morning basals slightly.
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