Life In A Bag

It’s 11:30PM and Vince and I are on our way to the airport to pick up my mom whose flight that was supposed to arrive at the decent hour of 6:30PM was cancelled and she was put on this late night flight. It’s way past my “bedtime” and I have to get up for work early in the morning. I am already worried about how I will make it through a Monday on such little sleep so we rush out the door to get her and get home as quickly as possible. We run out the door in our pajamas and hop in the car. It should be a just over an hour, there and back. About 15 minutes down the road, I realize Vince didn’t grab his black bag on the way out the door. I didn’t say anything at first. I was thinking, what can happen in 1 hour (or so)? It’s all highway there, and we would just be sitting in the car waiting for her to come out, and all highway back. What if he goes low? No glucose! Note to self, put glucose in my purse, since I always have that with me in the car. Could I pull of the highway to a gas station if needed? Probably wouldn’t want to do that at this time of night in the city. Would I pull over and call 911? Or would I wait until we get to the airport and see if there is a vending machine? If not, I suppose I could ask people around us if they have sugar, right? Maybe my mom will have something in her bag he could eat? I doubt it since you are limited as to what can be brought on planes these days. At this point, I mention to Vince that he didn’t bring his bag. He tells me that he checked his sugar before we left (which I didn’t realize) and that it was 167. Whew, we should be fine. Sometimes I need to remember that Vince takes care of himself and that I don’t need to worry as much as I do, but that is easier said than done. When at the airport, the CGM high alarm sounds and he takes a bolus. I said, are you sure you want to do that? He said it jumped to 300 and he had to. I agree. We also agree I should have glucose in my purse for next time just in case. The high alarm rings all the way home but this is one time that I don’t mind that he spiked high, since we were not prepared for a low. At least he had insulin on hand in his handy dandy pump! By the time we got home, it was an hour and a half later, and Vince was sitting in the car the entire time. His legs were not in great shape so I helped him into the house. Other than sore legs, the airport run didn’t turn into a potential low sugar no black bag disaster.