Sesame Chicken you Motherless $%&^@
Scott Benner
It was a long Sunday and the nights hours were burning away quickly. We just wanted to have a fast and easy dinner when we made the call. It ended up being anything but.
I pre-bolused. I counted carbs. I over-estimated those carbs. I set temp basal rates. I did everything that I know how to do and two hours later, it appeared as though my foresight had won the battle. Arden's BG was 150 two hours after insulin and some ninety minutes after she finished eating. I was victorious!
That victory was however, short-lived - Chicken and rice... not so nice
The next few hours were a slugfest. I traded punches with diabetes all night. It hit me in the jaw, a countered with a bolus. It responded with a gut punch, I shot insulin with a needle. Uppercut, water bottle. Jab, Temp basal. We went back and forth like two prize fighters in a ten round fight. This exchange went on until four in the morning, I was staggered by the unrelenting nature of the attack. Defeated physically as well as spiritually.
But little Mouse, you are not alone, In proving foresight may be vain:The best laid schemes of mice and menGo often awry