Dearest Juice Fetcher, (a.k.a. Justin, Hunkaliscious, J-Smooth)
I love you for all these reasons. And many many more....
You bring me juice in the middle of the night, and the middle of the afternoon, and sometimes the middle of the morning too.
When I say, "I'm high." you know that in fact I am not strung out on marijuana, but I just need you to watch the kids for a couple hours until my blood sugars drop back into range enough for me to function.
Before the days of Dexcom CGM, you woke me up when I was unconscious and face down on the floor and called 911 and told me in my ear that I would be okay, even though you weren't sure that I would.
Later... you made light of it by creating our inside joke about my low blood sugar ramblings, "What's that Windy? Timmy's stuck in a well?"
I love inside-diabetes-jokes.
Which brings me to these three words. "I. Am. Diabetes."
You never, ever, EVER make me feel unsexy for wearing multiple medical devices on my body.
You tolerate brown rice, flax seeds, hummus, cottage cheese, sugar free yogurt, and whole wheat pasta in our house. You'll thank me when we're 60... I promise.
Justin, I love you so much. I fall more in love with you every day and I am so thankful for the special care that you give to me in my weak moments of having diabetes. The word "care taker" makes me feel like I am some 90 year old geriatric patient... so I won't use it.... but you do play a big role in managing that aspect of my life and you do a phenomenal job and don't get thanked enough. I am thankful to be in a marriage where my husband is also my best friend and confidant. *and now I'm humming the Golden Girls theme song in my head*
Thank You for being a frriiiiiiiiiiieeeeennnnndd...........