It all happened over a week ago.
Crashes after meals.
Countless packs of smarties.
Lows that took three times the amount of carbs to bring her up.
Temp basals up the wazoo.
Fred and I got into discussion after discussion about what to do. She wasn't sick. Nothing was different. So what the hell was going on?
Finally we decided to ride the basal. That is, to NOT bolus her for any more meals and see what happened.
We didn't correct any highs either.
Things weren't perfect... sometimes she would go into the 200s. But she would always correct herself; no bolus needed.
But we also had days where she would be low-ish (70) going into dinner. She would eat 75g of carbs; including fries and gelato. Receive no bolus. And be 118 when we checked about 3 hours later. Total flat line on the CGM.
It dragged on. I won't lie, thoughts of a regenerating pancreas crept into my thoughts, but I pushed them away knowing the inevitable highs were coming. Regardless, the word "cured" danced on the outskirts of my brain, and I allowed myself to hope.
Of course, it all turned around one week after it started. I knew it was coming, but it was still a dagger to my heart. I should know better. I DO know better. But I am also a mom with the capacity to hope miraculous things for her child. And a little part of me dies when reality comes roaring back, as it always does.
I'll be okay. I got to experience letting Elise eat whatever she wanted and not worry about what it would do to her BG. I still counted carbs, but it wasn't the same.
I'll just chalk it up to her pancreas giving us a little birthday/anniversary gift.
13 hours ago