tired

No, I did not surf. For reasons to boring to write. And no, I haven’t blogged much about Nick’s diabetes lately. What is there to report? He’s high, high, high, then normal, then high again, then low, then high. It’s like that. I’m waiting right now for the required 15 minutes to pass so I can make sure the juice bumped his sugar level over 100 and then I can feed him something solid. He’s warm, snuggled into a nest of blankets, dreaming underneath the surf posters that adorn his wall, but I’ll have to pull him out of the covers and out of those dreams. “Wake up,” I’ll say. “Eat.” 

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