Add in diabetes technology. Beep beep beep: You must change your insulin pod tomorrow. Next day: (beeps) Today you must change your insulin pod. Beeps: insulin level is getting low. Beeps: insulin level is low. And of course every bolus and temporary basal begins and ends with a high pitched beep. Beep: Your CGM sensor needs to be changed soon. Beeeeep: Your sensor is now expired - CHANGE IT! Sometimes, it's enough to drive me mad.
And then, there is the night that I praise God for beeps. The night that I sit bolt upright hearing three successive beeps. I look at my Pebble watch. BG 67 going down. Likely, a compression low, that is, he is laying on his transmitter that sends his blood glucose reading to the receiver. Laying on it can prevent blood flow to the transmitter, the glucose in that region is "used up" and the transmitter now can't detect any in his blood. I get up with the intent of rolling him over, only to find that he's actually a bleeping 48. My hands shake knowing it is a 48 and dropping, and I'm racing the drop.
Pulling grape juice out of the dorm refrigerator by his bed, I try pouring some and quickly remember why grape juice is not a good idea when I spill some. It stains. Holding the cup to his lips, he's not awake and likely extra groggy being low. He tightens his lips like a toddler and raises his chin in a "you can't make me" gesture. Chocolate milk follows juice. He finally wakes. "Was I low?" In the next couple of hours, we fight the monster and win. I am grateful for beeping.
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