Remember how I said yesterday that diabetes has become a part of everyday life and I try not to let it get to me? Well, that was yesterday. Today, it got to me.

I was parent helper at Kade’s preschool this morning and as the children were finishing snack, I noticed that I was feeling pleasantly drunk. Given that it was 11:00 in the morning and I was surrounded by 4 and 5 year olds, I figured that the fuzzy, tingly happiness was less due to grandpa’s cough medicine and more due to my plummeting blood sugar. I slipped away to check and was startled at the 37 staring back at me. I wasn’t just low, I was approaching the “any lower and she’s going to pass out and horrify a room full of children” low. My shaking hands managed to pour a cup of juice and I plopped on the floor to treat and regain composure. Kade’s teacher was very concerned, but I didn’t want to draw attention to the situation and myself so I told her that I’d be fine in a few minutes (which thankfully I was). I then decided to down half a pop-tart (yeah, I brought pop-tarts as a snack…but they were the organic kind from Costco so don’t give me any grief) just to make certain that I would stay in the safe blood sugar range. As I’m standing by the sink, shoving the food into my mouth so I can get back to helping the class, I look over and see moms from the class across the hall staring at me as they wait to pick up their children. I must have looked so sad to them, hovering over the sink, devouring my food like some ravenous beast. I wanted to run out in the hall and tell them that I have diabetes, that normally I have to avoid sugary snacks, but on this occasion I needed the sugar to survive, that I was precariously close to unconsciousness just a few moments before and that I was desperate to feed my body’s demands with the only food I could find…pop-tarts. They had witnessed my desperation and I knew that trying to explain what they saw would only make me look more desperate, so I popped the last of the pop-tart in my mouth and smiled out the window.

I stopped wearing my sensors so my belly could take a break from the scar tissue and my psyche could take a break from the pain of inserting that ridiculously large needle. I guess it’s time to suck it up, stick it in, and take the necessary measures to avoid passing out in public and looking like some starving freak in front of the other preschool moms. Rumor has it that Medtronic is working on a single insertion set that will have the cannula and sensor in one unit. Now that’s something I’d like for Christmas…