It is dark. Black, really. There is no light anywhere. And there is no sound. There is nothing. Nothing but nothing.

This stunning blackness, this lack of light and sound, scares me concious. And I am in my bed. With an empty glass of juice in my hand. My right index finger slides, slimey, against the plastic cup, wet with blood.

Nothing makes sense. Bob's voice is the first thing I'm able to hear. "You need to test."

"I already tested," I answer, "Can't you see the blood?"

"You poked yourself, but you didn't test," He replies, "Come on, it's been about twenty minutes since you finished that juice."

"Was it bad?" I ask.

"Not as bad as it's been. You took the juice fine, no spitting, no screaming, no fighting. It was scary though, because you didn't say a word. It was like you were asleep with your eyes wide open." (READ MORE)

His knees are bent.

Like a frog.

His nostril whistles.

He sleeps peacefully.

He's 56.

"Charlie," I whisper into the dead of night, giving him a slight nudge.

The ceiling fan hums.

"Charlie, you're low. Have some juice."

"Charlie!"

So many nights I've whispered these words into his sleeping ears. So many nights for four-and-a-half years. So many nights Susanne has. So many nights other moms and dads around the world whisper the very same words to their children in the darkness. We need a cure.

He keeps his eyes closed.

He just nods and opens his mouth when he feels the straw poking at his lips. (READ MORE)

Low blood sugars that happen in the middle of the night really suck! You're dead asleep, and then all of the sudden your dreams start getting confusing and weird. You start feeling like you should probably drag yourself out of bed and get something from your sugar stash. You barely have the energy to get up and then once you do you stumble around and nearly black out. You feel confused and you act and look as though you've had WAY too much to drink. Then after you climb back into bed you just sit there for a while and you try to wait patiently while your sugar goes back up or until you feel good enough to fall back asleep.

Well, that's what happened to me last night, and what I tend to experience almost once a week.
(READ MORE)

Some days, my diabetes control is like a sleek, hot-pink BMX. It takes me for smooth, yet daring rides and lets me, in the words of Napoleon Dynamite "take it off some sweet jumps."

What's great is having several of those days in a row - as I've had lately. Only two or three bloodsugars out of range - and even those were mere blips - a 62, a 159... Nothing outrageous. That's when I start to get comfortable. I settle in for the ride, enjoy the air on those jumps. (READ MORE)

I am on the eliptical trainer, rather lost in the music coming from my Ipod. I'm into the second half of my one hour of cardio for the day. I'm starting to feel a little weak - so I keep my legs moving and grab my test kit from the water bottle slot. I fumble my hands through the test, while my poor legs struggle to remain coordinated. Damn it. 73 mg/dl. This is not good. If I want this work out to continue, I best act fast. Legs still moving, I open the hammer gel pack I'd brought for just such an occasion. (READ MORE)

Muscle Clip Art

Have you ever had a diabetes moment that called for desperate measures?

I've had a few too many to count.

Picture this. (READ MORE)