Mangled by the Mango: A Short Story in the Theater Known as Diabetes
The Scene: My couch. 9:45pm.
The Protagonist: My valiant efforts to look up the carb count for a mango, and
dose for it with laser-like precision.
The Antagonist: Diabetes. Who else would it be?
Alexis is ready to retire for the evening. She had a sensible dinner of chicken and spinach, with almost zero carbohydrates. She’d chosen a beautiful mango from the local market for her dessert, justifying its sweetness because of her carb-free dinner. She used the CalorieKing app on her iPhone to dutifully research the carb count of said mango, and accurately dosed for it uses her OmniPod insulin pump. The air is full of promise and sound diabetes management. She checks her bloodsugar.
Alexis: “275mg/dL? After all that? After looking up the effing carbs and dosing like a ninja and that’s what I get? TWO SEVENTY FIVE?! Hey Jacob….”
(calls to her boyfriend in the other room)
Jacob: “Yeah?”
Alexis: “Can you please remind me that, the next time we’re at the grocery store and I say the fruit looks nice and I’d really like to have a piece of it for dessert that I have no idea how to bolus for fruit and it’s going to completely ruin my day after 12 hours of gloriously controlled blood sugars?”
Jacob: “No problem sweetie. Will do.”
**SCENE**
Playwrite’s note: And that’s why my boyfriend is awesome – he goes right along with my diabetes rants, bless his heart!
Did you enjoy this post? Why not leave a comment below and continue the conversation, or subscribe to my feed and get articles like this delivered automatically to your feed reader.


You rock. this was way too true to life!