Normally, I don’t eat snacks after I’ve had a starter course at a restaurant, and my order’s in for my entree…because that’s just weird. I’m going to a restaurant to eat food, anyways (presumably a meal), so why on earth would I need to eat a snack in between courses?

Diabetes. Duh. Diabetes is always the answer (or root of the problem).

How annoying it was to start feeling shaky and sweaty, only to discover that my blood sugar was almost in the 60s soon after devouring my app and placing my dinner order. How irritating to know that the two chicken wings I just ate contained virtually zero carbs; therefore, would not do anything to boost my blood sugar any time soon. And how obnoxious it was, looking around the crowded restaurant and realizing it’d likely take some time for my meal to come out – and that the food I’d ordered was also relatively low carb (a bun-less turkey burger with side salad), and would also do nothing to correct my low.

Can you tell that I was just a bit irked at the situation?

I did what I had to do – reach into my backpack to grab one of the leftover granola cups from the pack of two I’d started earlier that day. I ate it quickly, crushing the wrapper in my hand and shoving it hastily back into my bag, hoping that no one saw me eating food that wasn’t from the restaurant like a wackadoodle.

And I swear, within five minutes, our food was out. I was happy but also just mad that I had to snack in between my appetizer and my main course. But diabetes is like a petulant toddler – it doesn’t care what you want or need, it just demands. It’s more demanding than any person or thing in my life. It’s exhausting, but there’s no choice other than to just oblige its needs, even if it means eating when you don’t want to.