I was smarter than this disease. I wish I could somehow know what it was doing. I wish this disease was like math and had an answer. If this, then that.
But it doesn't.
I feel like I'm at war; at war with an enemy far more intelligent, far more advanced than me. Nothing about this arrogant enemy is predictable. Nothing about it is fair or humane. There is no Geneva Convention with this disease.
After a week of amazingly good numbers and no spikes or dips even at karate camp, Sain is high. Not an "oh, she's running a bit high." No, she's HIGH and I can't get her to stay down. We've done set changes, insulin changes, everything -- 20 + units of correction alone yesterday with precious little results.
Maybe it was a mistake letting her go to a birthday party after getting sick at class; maybe I shouldn't have tried to be somewhat social while mapping out strategies of our next move in my head. But I couldn't let it win -- not yesterday. Yesterday we had to pretend to be normal.
My wish for today -- no ketones and that somehow the correction I gave Sain at 4 am is working and that when I go in the living room to check (camp outs in the living room are one of our "sick day" traditions) there are double down arrows from the sensor!