I was envisioning the rest of Riley's life as being this smooth. He would take a jog each morning before work or evening after work and have steady blood sugars right around 100/110 all the time in my fantasy. We got this, I thought. Why aren't people writing books, articles and blogs about this, I questioned myself.
Maybe because it's a crock!
Through a weird line of questioning about the vegetables Riley ate when he was left home alone which required him to make his own dinner, we discovered it's all been a pack of lies!
From April 1 to April 7, there were 6 bg's in range! SIX. So not only was daily exercise not affecting his blood sugars as we thought it was, he was high for almost three straight weeks. An while he was having these high readings, he would look me and his dad in the eye and say "110" or "97" or big-fat-lie-of-a-really-good-blood-glucose-number-inserted-here-between-these-quotes.
I couldn't speak or look at him during the speech his father gave him. The one about your life being precious, this disease is serious, you can't play games, do you know what happens to your body with prolonged exposure to high blood sugar? It was like my head had been smacked off shoulders by the one I loved
most a huge amount. There was literally pain in my chest. I was hurt.
We never dreamed that he could lie about the numbers or that he even tested. What kind of parents are we? Why were we so trusting? Wait, we had no reason to suspect that he was capable of this. Why is he capable of this?