Can I just say that this purse doesn't look that great with Woodchuck hanging and dangling next to it. Woodchuck's straps get tangled up in the purses straps and I don't end up looking that pulled together.
On Sunday, Joe had a baseball game. I decided that I would just carry my purse. No Woodchuck. I packed the glucometer for checks. I packed a pack of Starbursts for lows. I packed the glucagon in case I had to jab Joe with some of that. The ball field was fairly close to our home. We were to be gone for a few hours.
Welp. I felt I had the important bases covered, the blood sugar checks and the lows and the unconscious-like scenario. Guess who forgot to check the test strip bottle? Unh-freakin'-huh...me. After two checks within the first hour at the ballpark, we were done with the strips.
Hour two-ish, Joe came out of the dugout complaining that he felt "off". I slapped him the glucometer. No strips. No Dexter (CGM) either, he is sitting on Joe's nightstand. So I just sugared him blindly. He said he was good-to-go and off he ran to join his team.
Hour three-ish, while I was returning to the field after putting my umbrella in the car, I saw my friends helping Joe out at the Snack Bar. One of these friends also has a child with Type 1 and the other friend is very familiar with Joe and his care. As I approached, they gave me the run down. Joe felt low. He informed them that we had no strips...and I was nowhere to be found with the sugar. I suck. They gave him a pack of Skittles. He counted out 15 and consumed them. The Skittle bag then went into the dugout with him.
Hour four-ish, I never heard from Joe again throughout the remainder of the game. My friend brought up that Joe had the whole bag of Skittles and wondered if Joe would eat the remaining Skittles during the course of the game. I was fairly confident that Joe would not eat them unless he felt low. Sure, when he was four he gobbled down a whole entire pack of Starbursts and suffered a resulting 515. And. Yes, there was the Ginger Snap free-basing incident where the 5-year-old Joe informed me that they, the cookies, were not cookies...indeed... they were "snaps". The 9-year-old Joe...the Joe with almost six years of diabetes experience knows how bad a high makes him feel. He, at times, confuses highs with lows. Both are uncomfortable. "Sneaking" has not been an issue with Joe for a few years...so the Skittles did not weigh heavy on my mind.
On our drive home, I asked about the Skittles bag. Joe told me about eating his 15. "And since I had a ton left over, I handed out two to each of my teammates and gave the last 12 to Jon." Once home, strips were obtained ... glucometer was readied...finger pierced...5~4~3~2~1 ... Joe's blood sugar was 72; a little too close for comfort.
A day-in-the-life of trying to look pulled together at the ballpark while risking my son's well being. A bit dramatic, yes.