A sign for the times
“There’s a sign that says ‘open’ or ‘closed’ on a businesses so that you know if you can spend some money there. Like if Daddy wanted something. Or Momma wanted something. Or maybe if we needed to get a little toy for Rio.”
That’s true baby.
“And there is another sign that says ‘Beware for mean dog.’”
That’s a good sign to know how to read.
“And,” he said, extending his hand out flatly, fingers spread, “there’s a sign that says STOP!”
After the sign dissertation I took 25 units of Levemir. It was a bad night requiring a couple of hits of fast acting carbs. I woke up at 74 but was in the mid 60s by the time I got some Muslix poured into a bowl. I had intended to eat something more carb-friendly, but at this point some dried fruit was sounding like a good idea. I took a baby hit of Humalog, grabbed my coffee and checked my AP headlines at Yahoo.
20 minutes after eating it was time to get Rio up and to kindergarten. The SG was still sluggish and low. Damn.
I bundled the punk up, the mornings are getting cold. I strapped him into his car seat and he pulled a sheet he brought from his bed over his head. Like his mother, not a morning person.
Zipping north to town, passing through rare fog banks, I’m still showing a low SG on the Guardian. I decided to double check my sugar with a fingerstick. I slip a Accu-Check Aviva out of the sunglass holder in my wife’s aging CRV. I unzippppppp, pop open the vial and slip a strip out. Into the port. I lance my finger with a One-touch Mini lancer (best ever made, works one-handed or strapped into the case).
Beep! BG is on the rise at 74. Good.
Voice from the back. “Remember we were studying signs in school, Daddy?”
Sure, I remember. Why?
“I just saw a sign that says ‘No checking your blood sugar while you’re driving because you might lose control of the vehicle and crash down.”
I don’t recall seeing that sign.
Oh. Wait. There it is:
(base image pirated from Everydayhealth.com)