I may be a little full of myself, but last week I looked up the requirements to become a diabetes educator. Sitting with my coworker earlier this month and comparing war stories about our diabetes and the intermittent calls from my mom or my aunt about the best ways to manage my nearly 91-year-old grandmother's type 2 diabetes really give me a thrill. Maybe that sounds kind of kookie, but I suppose I have simple pleasures.

So, anyway, I'm not becoming a diabetes educator, mainly because I'd need to become a registered nurse (I think) and, frankly, that's not something I want to do. I was a little disappointed, though, reading the list of requirements and realizing that this was something that was out of reach for me.

However, this weekend drove it home how badly I don't want that career change. It's one thing to talk abstractly about diabetes management--Try having a carb and a protein as a bedtime snack to see if you stop going low overnight--it's quite another to have someone asking you specific, urgent questions.

Mom called on Friday. She and Aunt G., who lives with my grandmother, were on a short trip together. Aunt G. was on the phone with Little G., her daughter. Little G. said B's blood sugar was 44 and she felt terrible, and Little G. didn't know what to do.

"Have her drink a regular soda or some non-diet juice," I relayed. "And then check her every 15 minutes or so to make sure she's going up. When's the last time she ate? What was it? OK, yes, drink the soda or juice and continue to check her. And call me if you need anything."

I didn't hear back, so I knew everything was OK. Again, I felt as if I had really helped in this situation. But Little G. called again. B was getting ready to eat dinner the next day and she was 282. This was different. This was almost bedtime, need to eat something, try not to go low overnight, can't let B get too much higher.

"Drink lots of water," I told her. "Try to eat as few carbs as possible, but still eat some slow-digesting carbs like bread or crackers. At one hour after eating, start checking her every 15 minutes. Make sure she takes her bedtime meds. If she goes over 300, go to the hospital. Don't let her go to bed until you see that she's coming down. Call me if you need anything."

I passed my instructions off to Little G., who was probably scared out of her mind, and sat back and got pretty scared myself. What if my meal suggestion made B go too high and they had to go to the hospital? What if she goes low in the middle of the night because I told her not to eat too many carbs?

I'll stick to passing out my two-cents' worth to family and friends.