Tucker’s war with diabetes is an on-going struggle, as, I think, is the case with every sufferer of this frustrating condition. Though we intend to win this war and force diabetes into full retreat, right now, we seem to lose a skirmish here and there, only to break through after a more severe battle.
All of this metaphor means simply that the roly poly one has reached another stage in his fight. I can’t say that it satisfies me, but his doctor is pleased. After the random results of spot-checks over a couple of weeks, Tucker’s blood-glucose numbers have stabilized to a certain degree. We have now settled on giving him two units of insulin twice a day. This reduces his numbers usually to the 14 to 15 range, when at their lowest.
This is not what I consider satisfactory. The numbers should be under ten for a happy reading. However, these nadirs have been accompanied by sudden and unheralded drops to very low numbers, such as seven and even five. If these were consistent, and we could count on their appearances, then this would be good news indeed. But they are interspersed with the higher nadirs. So, while an increase of Tucker’s medicinal dosage would lower his overall numbers, they might also cause one of these haphazard, very low nadirs to fall too low.
Therefore, though I am ambivalent about his current status, the new dosage - and accompanying higher nadir - will provide stability for the furry sausage. Furthermore, his everyday activity is perfectly normal: a good sign. For now, he is relieved of his daily pokes in the ear for blood. I will conduct a curve on him soon, so we will learn the extent of his blood-sugar’s daily activity. Tucker’s tussle with his condition leads to what probably seems to be repetition in these articles, for which I apologise, but the only repetition I find on our end is one of bewilderment and annoyance with a condition that won’t behave itself.
At least this little fellow is behaving himself.