Read Liz Marvin - Betty Crawford 03 - Too Long at the Fair for Free Online Page B

another sip.”
     
    Betty took a drink and felt a little better.  “You don’t understand.  I – I have diabetes.”
     
    The nurse frowned. “Type one or type two?”
     
    “Type two. I don’t need insulin.”
     
    “What was your last A one C test?”
     
    Betty had to think.  The test was a month or so ago.  The doctor said it was all right and she hadn’t paid much attention after that but he had told her – think!  She had to think!  “I think it was six or maybe five point something.”
     
    The nurse went to the counter and returned with Betty’s purse.  “You have a blood glucose monitor in here?”  Betty nodded.  The nurse took it out, turned it on then opened the plastic case containing the small plastic test strips and inserted one.  Finally she daubed Betty’s finger with an alcohol swab and pricked it.  She was a real pro; Betty barely felt it.  The nurse collected the small droplet of blood and they both waited what seemed like minutes but was in reality only a few seconds.
     
    The meter beeped and the readout displayed one hundred ninety six.  The nurse let out a breath and stood up, returning with two eight ounce glasses of water.  “Drink these up. Fast as you can but don’t go making yourself sick again.  I’ll brew up some tea.”
     
    Betty finished the second glass just as the nurse arrived with a cup of tea.  “This is huckleberry tea.  Some folks call it bilberry but not around here.  It’ll lower your blood sugar.  Chamomile tea works too but not in the same way.  Huckleberry alters proteins that trigger insulin production while chamomile slows the production of a sugar called sorbitol which most type two diabetics don’t metabolize very well.”
     
    Betty wasn’t sure about folk medications but the nurse was giving her scientific explanations so maybe they weren’t really folk remedies after all.  Even if it was, what was the word?  Homeopathic.  Betty figured beggars can’t be choosers and she was here so she took a sip. It tasted good.  “So my kidneys aren’t going to fail I’m not going to go blind and die?”
     
    The nurse laughed again.  “No, honey, you don’t have diabetic ketoacidosis and those aren’t the symptoms even if you did.  Don’t fret, one binge of sugar won’t kill you.  As they say in the medical books temporary hyperglycemia is often benign and asymptomatic and blood glucose levels can rise well above normal for significant periods without producing any permanent effects or symptoms - but you still have to be careful.  Binge eating is no laughing matter.  Over time you really could hurt yourself.”
     
    Betty nodded, miserable again. The nurse laid her hand on her shoulder.  “Look at me.  I am no spring chicken and nobody will mistake me for a New York runway model.  I don’t have diabetes yet and I’m doing everything I can to keep from getting it but just about everyone in my family eventually comes down with it so I know what I’m talking about.  You on Metformin? 
     
    Betty nodded again.  “Five hundred milligrams a day”
     
    The nurse shrugged it off.  “That’s a child’s dose.  Tonight when you get home, you have a glass – one glass of red wine and maybe salad with low carbohydrate dressing and a few shrimp for dinner.  And don’t go skipping any meals! Get back to several small meals instead of one big one and start today.”
     
    “Can you be my doctor?  I like your prescriptions a lot more than his!”
     
    Again the woman laughed heartily.  “I’m just glad you’re okay and you’re taking care of yourself.  You’re young.  Keep exercising and stay away from pie eating contests and you’ll be fine.
     
    Betty slipped back into misery.  “I’m one of this year’s cooking judges.”
     
    “And they made you enter the pie eating contest?  Must have been Thelma Johnson.”
     
    Betty nodded and looked at her caretaker wonderingly.
     
    “Oh it’s no surprise.  I’ve