Yesterday's blood sugar readings:
8:00 -- 509
11:00 -- 478
2:00 -- 482
5:00 -- 537
8:00 -- 486
This morning's fasting blood sugar: 533
The only good news is, these aren't my numbers. They are my dog April's numbers. My dog's blood is turning into pancake syrup. I see these numbers and I want to scream DO SOMETHING! I call the vet and she is worried about April going low.
Low. LOW? Are you sh*tting me? If April had a low, I would have a party in celebration! A low would be welcome news. Treat the low, adjust insulin back one unit, and move on. A fasting BG of 533? All I see is death. I fear I am watching my dog die from under-treated diabetes.
April is still losing weight. At this point I am afraid to walk her around the block because someone will call the ASPCA on me for not feeding her. Her rib bones are sticking out. Her hip bones are showing. I can see her spine. This dog is going to die from high blood sugar and my vet is worried about going low.
Maybe if I didn't know what high blood sugar feels like it wouldn't bother me so much. Maybe ignorance is bliss. I know what super high blood sugar feels like. It feels like you're gonna die. This super conservative approach to April's diabetes is making me crazy.
Slow and steady might win the race, but at least running around in circles feels like doing something. I want to bang my head against the wall. We just adjusted her up 4 more
units a day. I hope it's better. It has to be better. I can't take much
more of this.