Awareness & advocacy · Everyday life. · Not-so-proud mom moments

The story of three taco shells.

Taco night. One of the best nights ever. Easy to make, everyone can eat them (even Joel with his low carb tortillas), and everyone actually likes them.

Our latest taco night was a little frazzled. Because Luke has Robotics Club on Thursdays, Joel and Luke didn’t get home from school until about 6:30 p.m. I was just finishing up dinner. The guys were putting together a lawn sweeper. So we all kind of ate when we could.

taco night1
I didn’t feel like cutting up my tomatoes. And no, it didn’t work so well.

Like most nights, Luke checks with me to see if I figured out carbs ahead of time. Tacos are easy to calculate. Each taco shell has 7g carbs. Luke usually eats three. So, I tell him 21 carbs. He boluses. Then, he eats.

taco night2

Soon after he was done eating, he decides to change his pump site. He was down to ONE UNIT of insulin. (It’s a game we like to play… how much insulin can we use before it’s time to change sites.) One leftover unit is pretty impressive. While he’s prepping his new tubing, he starts feeling low. He tests. FIFTY-FOUR. He felt low, but not THAT low! As he drinks his juice, I asked him, “How many carbs did you bolus for? Twenty-one?”

Yep, twenty-one for each taco.

For each taco!? It was 21 TOTAL. He over-bolused for over 40g of carbohydrates! No wonder he was so low! So he downed another two containers of juice. (I always like to possibly give him too much sugar than not enough in cases like this.)

taco night3
Luke as he waits for his sugar to come up…

Fifteen minutes later, he checks his sugar and it’s at 165. Whew! Crisis averted! Now he needs to run around the yard to get it down a little bit.

It’s a vicious cycle, those blood sugars.



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