Its one of those drag your butt kind of days thanks to diabetes. Last night was my usual routine of sleep, wake up, rollover, sleep, wake up and...holy crap! Its 4am already!
There was a fleeting thought in my head of "He has been high a lot lately. Would it really matter if I waited those three more hours until we both get up?"
The thought was followed by my feet hitting the floor and me stumbling down the hall to test my sleeping son. He was low. The answer to my question--yes it would have mattered. Best case scenario he would have "rebounded" and been high in the morning. I would have attributed the high to not enough insulin and considered upping his basal rate rather than dropping it like it should be.
My son had mentioned yesterday that his readings were all over the place, in part due to his own errors, and that he felt really weird. This helped to motivate me to move my carcass from my warm and cozy bed.
When I saw the low and stumbled towards the kitchen to grab him a glass of juice, I once again said "thank you". I reminded myself again how lucky I am to be able to test my son. I remembered parents who have lost their children to the dia-beast. I am dragging my butt. I desperately want to crawl into bed but I have too many other things to do. Tired or not, my son and I are alive and ready to take on another day of life with diabetes and that is a blessing.