ERRRRRR, ERRRRR, ERRRRR.
The blaring alarm from my iPhone jolts me awake. It’s 12:38 a.m. It is not time to wake up. I swipe up and enter my password because I know my face ID will not work in the dark. I tap on my Dexcom app. I’m 58 with an arrow pointing down. I reach for a mini juice box, suck it down, and drop my head onto my pillow. My Dexcom is my continuous glucose monitor. I wear a sensor on my body (usually my arm) at all times. It checks my blood sugar every five minutes and sends the result to my phone. Based on the result, my phone either keeps quiet or alerts me of a high or low blood sugar.
Forty-five minutes after the first alarm, the same alarm wakes me, but this time I’m out of juice boxes. I stagger out of bed, using my insulin pump as a flashlight. I make my way to the kitchen and ransack the pantry. I eat Oreos, Lucky Charms, pastries from the party over the weekend, and a Nutrigrain bar. This is way too much, but I am half asleep, sick of low blood sugars, and intent on going back to sleep until the morning. Instead, my alarm sounds two hours later, and now my blood sugar is 207 and rising. I proceed to dial up an insulin dose, ignoring the suggestion of the pump, and instead decide on five units of Novolog. I finally fall back asleep.
The yo-yo of Type 1 diabetes, this time caused by my over-treatment of a low blood sugar, doesn’t happen every night. But it does happen more than I like to admit.
I’ve had Type 1 diabetes for over 27 years.
I’ve been through everything with it: middle school, high school, and college; puberty, my 20s, and now my 30s; relationships, single life, and married life; pregnancy, miscarriage, and motherhood. Since the summer I turned 11, my Type 1 diabetes has accompanied me on every adventure. This may sound like an exaggeration, but it truly is not.
Everything I do, or don’t do, is impacted by my Type 1 diabetes.
When I wake up in the middle of the night, the first thing I do is check my blood sugar; then I check the baby monitors. When I decide to eat or drink, I have to determine the number of carbohydrates in the meal or beverage in order to correctly plan my insulin dose. Sometimes I am wrong, and that results in a high or low blood sugar. An hour after I eat, I check my blood sugar to see how that food and insulin dose are impacting my body. When I exercise, I either have to eat a snack or adjust my insulin. Type 1 diabetes does not give me a day off. Ever. In fact, there are days when, no matter how much I prepare, my Type 1 diabetes laughs in my face and does what it wants anyway. Those days are the worst.
This is what my life is like with Type 1 diabetes — and this isn’t even half of it.
My 3.5-year-old knows that when my phone or my insulin pump alarms, mama’s blood sugar is either too high or too low. One day, she will know that “in range” means a blood sugar between 80–120. She knows that when I’m low, I need a juice box, candy, or something sweet. She knows when I’m high, I need my “medicine” (my insulin). She pretends to check her blood sugar and helps me change my medicine when my insulin pump needs to be filled.
Between being a person living with Type 1 diabetes and a mom of two young daughters, my life is busy. Introduce teaching high school English full time and trying to maintain friendships and relationships, and life seems nearly impossible. Both motherhood and Type 1 diabetes have challenged me to grow in ways I couldn’t have imagined.
Strangely, I have a fine balance between rigidity and flexibility.
I must do certain things at specific times to maintain my health, but I must also be willing to adapt to given situations. I pack extra insulin, insulin pump materials, and low blood sugar treatments, right along with extra diapers, wipes, and clothes for diaper accidents. I take each day, each failure, and each victory one at a time. I forgive myself for high and low blood sugars as well as for losing my cool with my girls. I take time to take care of myself so I am available to take care of my family. While I would give anything for a cure for Type 1 diabetes, I know I would not be the woman and mother I am today without it.
For more information about Type 1 and Type 2 diabetes, check out American Diabetes Association.
