He Doesn't Have Diabetes
Brendon didn't have diabetes yesterday. We cut back his basal so that he wouldn't drop deathly low as he played catch, explored some wet wooded area with his older cousin and his cousin's neighbor friend, played air hockey, jumped in the bouncy house, and fumbled with the keys to Guitar Hero.
He ate pasta and pizza that we barely dosed him for. Before eating a honking piece of birthday cake, he never heard us call out the words "Brendon come here, let me see your pump" because he didn't need to be dosed for it AT ALL.
Anytime we checked him, he was a sassy 70....at the end of the night, a nifty 144.
He didn't throw temper tantrums from his blood sugars plummeting or rising. He was a steadily happy boy.
He didn't have diabetes yesterday. It was nice.
He ate pasta and pizza that we barely dosed him for. Before eating a honking piece of birthday cake, he never heard us call out the words "Brendon come here, let me see your pump" because he didn't need to be dosed for it AT ALL.
Anytime we checked him, he was a sassy 70....at the end of the night, a nifty 144.
He didn't throw temper tantrums from his blood sugars plummeting or rising. He was a steadily happy boy.
He didn't have diabetes yesterday. It was nice.
posted by Shannon at
1:45 PM
3 Comments:
Sounds like he had a fun (and tiring!) day. I bet it was nice for him to feel not so tethered to D.
:)
By
Lea, at 4/27/2008 4:07 PM
It's those beta cells I tell you. Dr. Faustman is onto something.
By
Penny Ratzlaff, at 4/27/2008 10:50 PM
I live for those kinds of days.
By
Lisa, at 5/02/2008 10:37 PM
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