It’s official: I’m in a commuter marriage.
The husband got a great job with great benefits, great career experience, great company, great people. One small glitch: it’s one hundred and twenty miles south of where our house is.
The daily commute would be about 2-1/2 hours each way and virtually impossible to do. So we packed him up a week and a half ago and moved him to a small studio apartment near his new job. He drives home on Friday night, we spend the weekend together, and he drives back Sunday night or Monday morning and spends the week in his apartment. And I spend the week in our house. Alone.
While I do have two dogs for company and security (they like to bark), I realized this is the first time since my diabetes dx that I’ve lived alone. I’m not obsessively worried about it, but I do find myself taking a different set of precautions than I normally would.
My general rule of thumb is not to go to bed unless I’m over a 100. I’ve bumped that number up to 110, and I pay more attention to what I’ve eaten, how long ago, how my sugars might be affected. The other night I ate Chinese food and miscalculated how much insulin I’d need to cover it. I tested right before bed and I was high. Normally, I would have given myself a correction of a couple units, but I paused, thought twice and didn’t. What if I dive-bombed in the middle of the night? My dogs are good company, but they’re not very adept at getting the straw into a juice box.
I don’t have a history of waking up low in the middle of the night—it’s only happened a couple times in my six-year diabetes history. But there’s always a chance it will happen, and I’m going to do my damnedest to make sure it’s a fluke, and not some stupid, “Oh, I’ll be okay,” lapse-of-judgment moment on my part.
I know I’m not the only one who spends time alone with diabetes, so if anyone out there has any good advice, tips, tricks, suggestions that I might not have thought of, please let me know.
As always, more to come…