Amy vs. Diabetes the epic Christmas battle royale

Diabetes kicked our asses today....hard...in fact I should be sitting here on one of those little inflatable donut things they give people to sit on when they have certain problems going on in that general area. It was bad. We didn't have the madhouse roller coaster ride of ups and downs...high blood sugars and low blood sugars...leaving you feeling like you are lost in the middle of a desert sandstorm not knowing which way is up and which way is down. It was just me...in a room all by myself screaming my fool head off on the inside...trying to figure out if Santa somehow decided to switch the insulin that was inside her pump and replace it with water. I was chasing highs like nobody's business. I was in a race...the marathon run of my life. My mind was focused on one thing and one thing only...getting her blood sugars down to a normal range and keeping them there. I wanted to make that pale look disappear from her face...make those dark circles under her eyes leave...do whatever I could possibly do to make sure that she had a good day. I wanted to make her feel good and healthy and normal and get rid of those damn highs. It was driving me insane slowly but surely. I could hear that bastard diabetes snickering away over my shoulder every time I checked her blood sugar and was met with a ridiculously high number. I could feel it breathing it's foul breath all over the back of my neck. I could feel it's wrath...it's power...it's evil spirit trying to steal this day away from us. I could feel it trying to ruin her day and make her feel like crap. By dinner time I decided that diabetes and I were no longer on speaking terms. With each high number I just clenched my jaw and gave her a correction bolus. I increased everything across the board and did temp basals that were higher than any I have ever done before. There was no concern or room for playing it safe. There was no need to take baby steps and walk around on egg shells afraid that what I was doing would cause frightening lows later on. It was time to pull up my big girl panties and put on my diabetes boxing gloves. I did my best. I did what I could. I dug down deep and kept at it. I didn't give up. I didn't back down. I didn't cower and cry in the corner sobbing "why me? why us? whyyyy?" into my tear soaked hands. I sucked it up, gave it my all, and we survived. She survived and had a great day....pale faced...dark circles...and all. She made it. I made it. This was our 4th Christmas with diabetes....our 1st one on the pump...and we lived....we made it. Sure we didn't do it well...we didn't have ideal blood sugars at all the entire friggin day....but we did it. We slid into the final hours of this day by the skin of our teeth...battered and bruised...exhausted and spent...me with a few more gray hairs upon my head...her with a bit more exhaustion than normal and a bit more holes in her fingertips than normal....but we did it. We are fighters...we are stubborn beyond belief...we are tough...we are strong...we did it. Diabetes tried to take us out today....it tried VERY hard...but we lived to tell the tale...and for that I am truly greatful. Tomorrow is a new day as they say. The sun will rise again and the next round of this epic battle will begin...and we will win again...I can only hold onto the hope that tomorrow will be a tad bit easier on her little body. It was a good Christmas. Santa was good to us again. We spent the day together. We enjoyed the time together. We were a family....and that is what matters most to me...that is what I will think about as I lay my head down on my pillow tonight. Merry Christmas everyone!