I know Adam has diabetes.
I know he needs insulin every time he eats in order to live.
I don't understand why, when hovering over the "Go" button on his pump, I hesitate to give him 5 units of insulin for his lunch.
Pushing it means "Holy shit, he really does have diabetes. And this is a butt-load of insulin."
Why is it so hard, 7 months later, for me to accept that fact? Why now?
Maybe because in the beginning, 1 unit did the trick. We were warned of the perils of giving him too much. I'm terrified to give him too much and kill him. Yeah, that may be overly dramatic, but it's true.
I finally emailed his endo yesterday with his numbers...I don't know why it took me so long to ask for help. I'm not good at that. Even if that is what they are there for. I feel like I've been conditioned to "know" what I'm supposed to do for Adam's diabetes, when 90% of the time, I don't. I assumed that he needed a huge basal increase, but what his doctor responded with was to change his carb ratios.
And doggone it, he was right.
Sheesh, I should have just asked him weeks ago, yet instead I figured that I knew what I was doing. This morning he had 4 pancakes, something that over the last few weeks would surely send him skyrocketing into the 400's. Today? About an hour and a half after his dose, he was 250. Wow. He really did need to have his I:C changed. We are now at 1:17 for breakfast and 1:22 for the rest of the day.
I hate being a bother, but I need to get over that and start using his doctor like I should. I need to stop assuming that he's going to be honeymooning for a long time.