"Ducking Fiabetes" doesn't quite cover it.

When you've had a child with diabetes for enough of a length of time, you begin to realize something....every Parent of a Diabetic Child is going to have a moment when "ducking fiabetes" just doesn't quite cover the situation.  We've had one of those moments tonight.  Lately, Lily's blood sugars have been dropping a bit just after bedtime snack.  So I've been backing off on the insulin before we put her to bed.  Tonight, I didn't back off nearly enough.  My husband and I put the kids to bed.  We have a regular routine where he reads to Lily and tucks her in while I read to Leo and tuck him in.  Once Leo has drifted off, I leave him sleeping and pop into Lily's room for a few minutes of snuggling before letting her drift off to sleep too.  Usually, we spend a couple of hours decompressing in our own ways and in our own spaces.  Tonight, we decided to watch a movie together.  About an hour into it, he got a call from a friend.  The movie was put on pause and while he was finishing up his call, I ran up to check Lily's blood sugar.  For snack tonight, she had a five huge strawberries and half a cup of milk.  I only covered 10 grams.  I expected a high number.  I got a 2 followed by a 4.  A fucking 24.  I'm not a swearer.  Very rarely will I do it.  But, here, it just seems appropriate.  I have never seen a blood sugar that low for Lily.  And it's been ages since I've seen one like that for me.  They suck.  They more than suck.  There is nothing in diabetes that sucks quite like having your child register in at 24.  I got a full juice box into Lily.  27 grams of carbohydrates in that full juice box.  She slowly rose.  40.....65.....84....95.  I thought she'd be safe and good at that point.  We finished watching the last hour of the movie.  I came back to check on Lily again.  82.  How in the hell can 27 grams of carbohydrates only raise her 50 points when it would normally send her orbiting in the upper levels of the blood sugar spectrum?  I've gotten another 1/3 of a juice box into her and am now waiting the 15 minutes for the recheck.  You know what I wish I had?  I wish I had a punching bag.  I could decorate it with various diabetes-related pictures and words and spend these 15-minute-waits giving in to my urge to pound on diabetes.  Fucking diabetes!