The other night, I realized my kids had ate my glucose tablets so I reached under my bed for the emergency bag of gummy candies I have stashed there. I frantically tore the bag open and started stuffing my mouth in frustration. Alex studied me for a moment and said, “Are you ok?”
Through a mouthful of sticky, fruit shaped, red 40 dyed High Fructose Corn Syrup poison I muttered, “I hate these lows, the ones that shoot down quickly.” Then as beads of sweat came down my forehead and my heart raced I said, “It literally feels like death is coming to get me.”
Alex looked at me sympathetically and said frankly, “Well, that’s pretty much what’s happening, isn’t it?”
I’m usually a tad dramatic but this time and many other times, diabetes rises to the occasion.
Diabetes isn’t a drama queen. And we’re not drama queens or kings for living with it.
This stuff is for real.