When your kid has T1D, sometimes you stay up way past your bedtime because she’s low, and low again, and low still. Even after glucose tabs, followed by cutting the insulin, followed by gatorade, followed by cutting more insulin. And you know you’ll write about it in the morning, wishing you could give a better explanation as to why. Or any explanation, for that matter. Because who the hell knows why? And while you think about all of it you check your Starbucks balance because you know you’ll need something with an extra shot or two in the morning. And maybe in the afternoon too. And then you sit down and write a nasty-gram…errr… a polite but strongly worded letter to school officials who are thinking it’s a good idea to save some $ and replace school nurse with a health tech. You think about Flint, Michigan, but decided it’s too dramatic and drastic of a metaphor. You proofread multiple times because you don’t want the letter to read as a nasty-gram. You forget to make kids’ school lunches because you are all upset about the school nurse situation, Dexcom is blaring alarms every 15 minutes, and your brain is fried. You wonder how far Dexom will fly if you throw it. Then you remember how grateful you are to have this helpful technology, so you continue to love-hate it without physical violence. You think about laying down on your kid’s bed to rest but you can’t because the laundry is piled up high on her bed. And she is sleeping on the floor in a sleeping bag because of the laundry pile on her bed. You kind of laugh because it’s funny and absurd, and walk out of her room, only to come back two minutes later to silence Dexcom, again. After checking BG for the umpteenth time, you pump your fist when it’s 87. And you finally go to bed, way past your bedtime, wondering if a rebound high alarm will wake you up in the middle of the night, and you dream cruise ship wreck and coffee dreams. And when you wake up in the morning and write this, you’ve completely run out of f***s to check for spelling errors, so there may be some in this post. Don’t judge, OK?