#Managing diabetes without insulin

[thenewsinfinite]

7 Natural Ways to Lower Blood Sugar Without Medication — Proven Strategies That Work

Discover 7 natural ways to lower blood sugar without medication. These simple lifestyle changes and home remedies can help manage diabetes naturally. 🩺 Introduction Managing blood sugar levels naturally is a goal for many people—especially those living with type 2 diabetes or prediabetes. While medication can be life-saving, not everyone wants to rely on prescriptions alone. The good news is…

[vaporize-employers]

Abed needs $2000 to keep his hand

After weeks sleeping outdoors with no warm clothes or blankets, my friend Abed's @mohmad2 finger has turned black.

It will need to be amputated within days without treatment.

His type 1 diabetes makes this especially urgent. It could turn worse much more quickly; he can only manage to get insulin a couple times a week and has been hospitalized with a coma countless times since the war started.

Please help my friend by sharing and/or donating. He, his wife, and their children have been through relentless trauma and hardship, and unfortunately I do not have the funds to save his hand without help.

Vouched for/vetted by association: @nohaibrahims-blog (post by @northgazaupdates)

Previous fundraiser was vetted (#47) but removed by GFM

NEW campaign Dec 12, 2024:

[augustjoy]

You’re Not Alone In This.

Based on the following ask: @itzvenus04 Hotch is my comfort character, maybe it’s because he takes care of others and I like that especially when I take care of people all the time, I’m like Cinderella in my house like no joke, if I don’t do it, nobody will ever do it. Anyway, I was wondering if you could do like an Aaron x Diabetic reader fic, as I have diabetes and it’s extremely difficult and exhausting and love to maybe see that with a comfort character of mine. Like Aaron does anything and everything he can to understand the reader and the illness, like when the reader sugar is high or maybe low, taking care of doctor’s appointments, medication drop off, just putting effort in I just want to read something that could comfort me in that way because it’s exhausting being a diabetic and having no one bother to care about it or put effort in, I’m alone essentially - I really hope you like this babe! I did my best!

Aaron Hotchner x Diabetic! Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 1709

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, some explicit language, reader has type 1 diabetes, mention of doctors and appointments, mention of medication/insulin management, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description – other than being a diabetic and having an insulin pump (worn tucked into their waistband or pocket) and an administration site located on their leg (there is mention of a site failure and relocation) as well as a sensor worn on the arm, reader is mentioned to work as well as being active in college courses (not full time), Hotch cares a lot, use of pet names, I think that’s everything – let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You were the type of person who couldn’t bear the thought of burdening others. As exhausting as it was, constantly doing things on your own and taking care of others, you did so without complaint because things needed to get done. It would be much easier to just do them as opposed to putting it on someone else, or worse, adding weight to their shoulders.

This growing sense of solitude grew when you began dating Aaron. It wasn’t that he made you feel alone, actually it was quite the opposite! Aaron was always reassuring you that he was by your side through it all, especially as your relationship progressed. But as things intensified, you couldn’t help but notice the sag in his shoulders, bags under his eyes, and the air of weariness he exuded. Aaron had an extremely difficult job, one that had taken far too much from him, so who were you to make his life any more difficult than it already was.

You did everything in your power to hide things from Aaron – just to keep from filling his plate with anymore worry. You would suffer in silence through the highs and lows of your mental health, the business from working full time and taking classes at the local college…and even more so, your physical health.

You had kept the fact that you had type one diabetes a secret from Aaron…not because you were embarrassed or because you didn’t trust him, it was simply because you knew he’d make it his mission to ensure that you were taken care of, ahead of everything else.

But that was the problem with dating a profiler. Aaron could see through the façade that were your replies of “things are good!” “I’m great.” “Classes are going well.” “I feel fine, just a little tired.” Aaron knew that there was something deeper, looming under the surface, something you weren’t telling him. So, two months into dating you’d had to come clean.

“Sweetheart, I know something is wrong. I just wish you’d tell me so I can help you.” He’d beg.

“Aaron everything is fine I pro-”

“Please don’t say everything is fine…honey, you were basically lethargic the other day when we facetimed, and I was so worried about you.”

“I’m diabetic Aaron. That’s what was wrong. My sugar was low. But everything is fine.” You explained.

After that, Aaron made sure to keep a closer eye on you. Not so much that you’d feel suffocated or like he was babying you, but enough that he could tell if your sugar was too high or too low. Once Aaron found out you had type one diabetes, he dove into late night research sessions on what all your condition entails, how to best manage your insulin, what an appropriate level looks like, how to calculate your carb intake so the proper amount of insulin is being administered as well as how to change your site and how to use the pump.

The change in his behavior was subtle…but noticeable. Aaron started keeping small snacks or juice with him in the case of a sugar low, he also started checking in on you more frequently. When you moved in, the changes became far more obvious, Aaron was doing so much around the house – always doing the dishes, taking the trash out with him on his way to work, doing laundry on the weekends, setting up deliveries for your groceries. It was overwhelming to have someone this attentive.

“Aaron, I can do this!” You giggled as his arms snuck around you, pulling the vacuum from your grasp.

“I know you can sweetheart, but you don’t have to. I will.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, encouraging you to go sit.

His overprotective nature didn’t surface until he witnessed a pretty intense low.

The morning had started off normal, you’d skipped out on breakfast, which wasn’t unusual. You’d completed an assignment for school and taken your dog on a walk when you started to feel off. It had been a little bit warm outside, but with the way you were sweating, you knew that wasn’t it.

You managed to get back home, but not without feeling lightheaded. You reached down to unclip the dog’s leash, and that’s when Aaron caught it, your hands were shaking, so much so that you were struggling to open the clasp.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“I uh, I feel a little…” You pressed the back of your hand to your forehead and with the other, steadied yourself on the entry table. “Can you – would you grab me some…some juice?”

“Yeah, honey why don’t you sit down.” Aaron quickly went to the kitchen and poured a glass of juice.

Aaron watched you insistently as you sipped the juice. He reached over to check your phone, to see if your numbers were starting to regulate. Taking note of the number beginning to rise, he sat next to you and rubbed soothing circles on your spine.

“Honey, did you eat breakfast this morning?” Aaron inquired.

“No, but I never eat breakfast Aar. When I do, my numbers usually end up to high and then I feel sick all day.” You huffed.

“Okay, we will figure it out. Maybe we should schedule an appointment with your doctor.” He suggested.

“It’s always been like this, it’s okay really.”

“I’ll schedule an appointment for you sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to your temple.

Aaron was far more attentive with your illness, going with you to your doctor’s appointments, asking them how to avoid highs and lows, figuring out the best way to manage your insulin. He also began to monitor your medication, making sure you never ran out and that the pharmacy was processing your refills, when they got low.

This day was not going the way you had hoped. Things had been super overwhelming, you had finals coming up for your classes and work had been particularly busy, truthfully you were exhausted. You’d been nauseas all day, your numbers elevated, despite your best efforts to lower them.

You had taken a break from studying to change the laundry when you heard Aaron get home.

“Hey baby!” Aaron pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Hi hon.” You mumbled.

Aaron knew you had been stressed out about school and work, you had put your finals dates on your shared calendar, and he figured that was taking its toll on you.

“Why don’t I make us some dinner? I can grill up some chicken?” He posed.

“Yeah, that sounds good. I can steam some broccoli to go with it.” You suggested.

“Perfect!” Aaron left you with a peck.

You’d finished up with the laundry and went to the kitchen, pulling out a water bottle from the fridge while you got started prepping the veggies.

Aaron glanced at you through the sliding door, he had noticed there were quite a few water bottles and cups scattered around the apartment, more than usual. He couldn’t help the bit of concern that crept in – you’d previously mentioned sugar highs sometimes came with unbearable thirst.

“Sweetheart, have you checked your number recently?” He asked.

“Yes, it’s been a little elevated today.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, a little nauseous but I’m fine.”

The two of you sat and ate dinner while talking about your days. You told Aaron about a new project at work and how you were more than ready for your finals to be over. He shared that he had consulted on a few cases today with some law enforcement from other states – hopefully they wouldn’t get called away this weekend.

After dinner you’d excused yourself to the restroom and Aaron cleared up the table, placing the leftovers in the fridge. He made his way to your shared bedroom and softly knocked on the bathroom door.

“Baby, is everything okay?”

“Aar, I’m fine.” You sighed.

“Would you let me in? Maybe I can help.” He offered.

“I don’t need help – Shit!” You hissed.

With that Aaron let himself in the bathroom, worried that you were hurt.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think there’s something wrong with my site.” You were fiddling with the site attached to your leg.

“Honey, why don’t we change it out, I can help.” Aaron moved to grab everything you’d need for your new site. “Is your sensor good still?”

“I think so.”

“Okay, go lay on the bed.” He commanded gently.

You went to lay on the bed, sliding your sweats off, carefully moving your pump to lay beside you on the bed. Aaron made his way over to you with the new injection set. He assisted you in removing the old one and placing the new one, taking note of the needle being bent slightly.

“Sweetheart, I think this is why you’ve been high all day. Your insulin wasn’t injecting properly.”

“Ugh. Stupid thing! Let’s just put in the new one so I can get this all sorted out.” You stressed.

You had tears in your eyes. Not from the pain of the needle entering your skin, or the sick feeling you’ve endured all day…but from the fact that you don’t get to have a normal day that’s carefree. Aaron has taken so much off your plate by being especially helpful with day-to-day things, but this feels like too much and you feel so alone in your illness.

“Alright honey, you’re all set.” Aaron began cleaning up all the trash from the new injection set.

“Thank you.”

“Hey sweetheart…” Aaron began. “I know that I will never be able to fully understand, but I want you to know that I’m here for you. I want to help you in anyway I can, whether it’s changing your site for you, doing the dishes after a long day, or even just to give you a hug.”

Your tears were falling freely at his confession. You had never felt so seen, so weightless, so supported. You let your head fall back and your shoulders finally relaxed.

 “I love you so much. You have no idea how much that means to me Aaron.” You wrapped your arms around his middle.

“I love you too sweet girl.” Aarons arms enveloped you as his lips connect with your forehead.

[megalony]

Watch Your Back- Part 3

Thank you all for the lovely feedback on this Dark! Evan Buckley series so far.

And for all the ideas being sent in, they are very helpful in keeping me motivated for extra parts. Hopefully I can come up with another addition to this series soon too. Please let me know what you think.

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Dark! Evan Buckley Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: Being type one diabetic, (Y/n) relies on Evan for a lot of things, and it makes him very controlling over her. Especially when they are around other people.

Enjoy.

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A tired sigh broke past Evan's lips as he lifted his head from the pillow and glanced his bleary eyes around. It took him a few seconds longer than usual to manage to lock his eyes onto the clock beside the bed and work out what time it was. His brain felt like there was a fog rolling in and his body felt heavy like lead when he sat up.

This is what he got for working three night shifts in a row and working into the morning. He had been asleep for almost four hours, that was more than enough of a power nap to get him through the rest of the day and recouperate ready for his next shift tomorrow. At least he wasn't on nights anymore.

Sometimes night shifts were easier. Not on Evan's body, his mind was hyperactive and he didn't usually find it easy to sleep during the day. Today had been the only day he managed a nap, the previous two days he had gone without sleep and powered through on nothing but caffeine and willpower.

But a night shift was easier when it came to (Y/n). Night shifts meant Evan could be with her during the day. It meant he could look after her and go out with her and generally be around her. He knew she would never go out during the night, especially not if Evan was at work. When he left for work, (Y/n) had been watching tv in bed and while he was gone she went to sleep.

There was no need for Evan to worry about her or panic that she might try and go out somewhere without him or try and talk to people when he wasn't around. Evan could be with her during the day and keep an eye on her. He could give her the insulin injections she needed, make sure she ate and drank properly and that her levels weren't in danger of being too high or too low.

Evan had a lot more control this way.

His arms stretched high above his head until his shoulders and neck clicked into place and he found the will to get out of bed. He needed a shower, and probably a half an hour run since he hadn't been on a run in over four days.

He slowly clambered off the bed and padded across the laminate floor towards the stairs. He didn't bother opening the bedroom curtains, there was enough light pouring in from the high rise windows downstairs in the living room.

Shivers coursed up and down his back when his bare feet touched the stairs that felt like walking on ice blocks.

He scratched the back of his neck and ruffled his curling hair as he slowly trailed downstairs. He couldn't hear the tv in the background which perked his interest. What was his girl doing?

His eyes scanned around the apartment as he paused near the bottom of the stairs, two steps from the floor. The kitchen was empty and when he looked behind him, Evan couldn't see (Y/n) in the living room either. He found the answer to his question when he looked to the left and noticed the balcony door was open.

They didn't often use the balcony, it was a nice open space, but they rarely went out there. Sometimes Evan would find (Y/n) reading out there when it was a nice day, but the sun did make it hard to concentrate and reading with sunglasses was always irritating to (Y/n).

She was perched on the chair, legs crossed beneath her with her head tilted to one side and a few notebooks and some paperwork scattered on the table beside her. Evan guessed she was doing some work. He didn't often find her working out on the balcony, but he figured because of the warm weather and the bright sun (Y/n) fancied being outside. The balcony was great for when (Y/n) wanted to go out but her general anxieties stopped her. She could feel like she was out in the fresh air without having to leave the santuary of their home.

When he heard "You're strange," a frown pulled at his lips and his head inclined to one side.

He thought for a moment that (Y/n) might be talking to him, but her voice was distant and she hadn't moved or turned around to signal that she even knew he had woken up from a nap.

The moment Evan saw her right arm move and noticed the phone in her hand, his expression changed.

She was on the phone to someone.

Who would she be calling?

Since Evan had swiftly blocked her parents and Cathy's numbers from her phone, (Y/n) hadn't had any contact with them. She knew it was for the best, she understood Evan was looking out for her and that he was the only person who bothered to care for her and who had her best interests at heart. And after the fiasco at the Christmas Fayre over a week ago, (Y/n) barely spoke to anyone without Evan present beside her.

She didn't have that many friends to call up and chat with either. Sometimes she called people from work, but that was to do with the work (Y/n) did, it was never a social call. And right now, Evan could hear his girlfriend laughing. Who was making her laugh like that? Who was she talking to? What were they talking about?

He had such an intensifying need to walk over there and stand in the doorway, to make his presence known and ask (Y/n) who was on the phone. Or to wait in silence unti she told him what was going on. But Evan didn't want to do that.

For all he knew, (Y/n) might end the call or the conversation might shift if he made his presence known.

He folded both his arms over the bannister and perched his chin on his forearms as he tried to strain his hearing and focus on what was being said. He was suddenly pleased too that (Y/n) had her phone on loud speaker. That made it much easier so that Evan didn't have to try and decipher a one way conversation. He didn't have to piece things together when he could hear the whole conversation.

"So, you wanna come over next friday?"

A grin spread across (Y/n)'s lips as she placed her phone down in front of her crossed legs on the lounge chair she was perched on.

She hadn't been to see Bridget in a while. They had known each other since Bridget moved to the company (Y/n) worked for, and they had instantly gotten along like a house on fire. They were both busy, and with (Y/n)'s anxiety, Bridget understood that she didn't go out too often.

But Bridget was one of the very few people who (Y/n) felt easily comfortable around. She never felt upset or anxious when she went to her house or if they went out for dinner or a drink together. She didn't struggle with finding things to talk about or wondering what to say. They could always have a laugh and a joke together and they were sort of like sisters, the kind who could confide in each other. Not the kind like (Y/n) and Cathy were.

She set down her notebook on the table beside her and started to card her fingers through her hair as she smiled. Going out to see Bridget would be a good idea. It wouold boost her confidence and give Evan a break from having to chaperone (Y/n) to social events and to see people. (Y/n) didn't want to always feel like she was being a burden to her partner.

"I'll ask Evan, but I don't think we have any plans, that should be fine."

Of course, (Y/n) would have to run it past Evan before anything was set in stone. He was like a calander for (Y/n), he reminded her if they had any appointments or if something was planned that (Y/n) tended to forget about. And he always advised her too, whether or not it would be a good idea or if it might be something that would panic her.

(Y/n) liked to run things past Evan, before she did anything. As long as he knew, then she felt protected. If she went to see Bridget and suddenly felt anxious or unwell then Evan might be able to talk to her on the phone and calm her down or come and pick her up.

If she suddenly had a panic attack on Thursday then they would know it was likely due to the fact that she had a social event planned for the next day. Evan was always able to calm her down through things like that.

"Don't tell me you need to ask permission from that hunk." The joking, slightly teasing tone to Bridget's voice made (Y/n) roll her eyes and she let out a small chuckle.

"No, I just wanna check we aren't doing anything."

She wasn't asking Evan for permission, that wasn't the case. Their relationship wasn't like that, but then again, Bridget wasn't being serious. She was always the joker in any situation.

"Alright. And we can talk wedding plans, you're seriously moving up the wedding?" There was a hint of excitement in Bridget's voice, although (Y/n) was sure she could hear a tone of scepticism.

"I told you, we wanna get married after new years." Bridget had been one of the first people (Y/n) told. In all truth, she was about the only person (Y/n) had who she could tell.

There was no point in trying to tell her parents or Cathy when (Y/n) and Evan had agreed that if they couldn't be happy for the couple, then they shouldn't attend the wedding. They would only make (Y/n) anxious and that wouldn't be fair when this was going to be her special day. It was her day, her time to be with Evan and their true family and friends. Neither of them wanted Cathy trying to make a spectacle of herself or causing any health issues again.

And if her parents were going to voice their 'concerns' or make a fuss or be unhappy then they shouldn't be there to ruin the day.

It wasn't going to be a big event, (Y/n) wouldn't be able to handle that and Evan didn't like being the centre of attention. They were having a small ceremony with the team, Evan's sister Maddie and the odd grandparent. That would be about it.

The day was going to be small and close-knit and it was going to be perfect.

"And that's not too soon?" This time, (Y/n) could make out a hint of worry in Bridget's otherwise chirpy tone.

Why would it be too soon?

No one had put up a fuss when they moved in together, or a month later when Evan asked (Y/n) to marry him. Everyone had been so happy for them when they got engaged and all of Evan's family and friends had taken (Y/n) in like she had been part of their group for years. People treated them as if they were already married and (Y/n) loved it. She wanted it to be offical, and so did Evan.

"A few months makes a lot of difference?" (Y/n) managed a smile as her heart rate calmed down when she heard Bridget laugh. She knew deep down that Bridget would go along with anything as long as she knew (Y/n) was happy, and her friend knew she was the happiest she had ever been since meeting and getting engaged to Evan.

Rather than waiting until April or May to get married like they had initially planned, the couple had decided they wanted to get married soon after the new year. Middle to late January was their range and they were hopefully going to book a day soon and get everything set in stone so they could let their families know and make sure everyone would be able to have the day off to be there with them.

They wanted to be together officially, and the sooner the better. It was what they both wanted. (Y/n) wanted to be able to call Evan her husband. He was the person who made her life worth living, the one who looked after her and made sure she was okay and treated her like she was the only person in the world worth his time and effort and love.

She wanted to be with him in every possible way, and Evan had proved time and time again that he loved (Y/n) more than anyone else in the world. She was the one for him, and he wanted the world to know that.

"I guess not, just a bit of a summer romance. Your pace is fast, but if you're happy then I guess it doesn't matter."

A low rumble came from deep within Evan's chest and his upper lip started to curl as he listened to the conversation pan out ahead of him.

He didn't like the sound of that.

He knew Bridget, he had met her on a few occasions and he knew that she was the one friend that (Y/n) would confide in recently and the only one who (Y/n) felt like she got along with and who understood her.

That wasn't good. Evan was supposed to be that person. He was supposed to be the one that (Y/n) confided in, the one person in the world who understood her and did everything for her and who she could be herself around. She didn't need another person when she had Evan, he had proved and told her a million times before that he was that person. She didn't need anyone else when she had him, he thought (Y/n) understood that.

And he certainly didn't like how Bridget was insinuating that they were moving too fast when they weren't. Evan would have married (Y/n) the day after proposing to her if he could. He wanted to get married before Christmas if they had been given half the chance. Being married after the New Year felt like it was months away when it was realistically just less than two months away.

He wanted to be married to her now. Then everyone would know. That guy from the other station who had tried to approach (Y/n), Arthur, he would know not to go near her again when he learned she was married to Evan.

Everyone would know she was his girl and not to mess with her or go near her. They would all know that Evan was her husband, the person who protected her at all costs and looked after her and loved her to the end of the Earth. She would have his name, she would be his girl.

They would be bound together until the end of time.

Evan couldn't have Bridget ruining that. By the sound of things, she might turn out to be another person who would need to be sorted out, like Cathy. And Evan was still trying to find the right time to pay another visit to Cathy to make sure that she wouldn't do anything else untoward and to make sure she understood her place.

If he had to get the same message across to Bridget, then so be it. Evan would do whatever he had to in order to make his and (Y/n)'s relationship- and soon, their marriage- secure so no one could provoke or challenge them.

Their relationship was everything to Evan; (Y/n) was his world and he would get rid of Bridget too if she was going to become a problem.

A sigh passed Evan's lips that curved into the slightest grin as he looked out at his fiancée.

He was the only person she needed; Bridget had to be taken care of.

***

(Y/n) hooked her bag onto her shoulder and leaned her back up against the wall as she looked through her things. It was a habit that had almost become a ritual whenever she left the house. She had to check her bag two or three times to check that she had everything she needed and that she hadn't or wasn't leaving anything behind.

Her fingers skimmed across her phone, then her purse. She had her keys hooked onto her thumb, and in the side pocket of her bag was her emergency glucose sachets in case she started to have a hypo. She knew that whenever she went out somewhere with Evan, he kept a packet of sweets in the glove box of the jeep. Along with some glucose sachets and glucose powder in case a hypo was really bad.

He liked to be prepared for all kinds of emergencies, one of the many things that (Y/n) loved about him.

"Do you have everything?"

Evan's voice brought (Y/n) out of her thoughts and she looked across at him as he stood at the kitchen island. When she noticed the small black case in front of him on the counter, she smiled. He was getting her insulin ready. (Y/n) was going to do it once she got her shoes and bag ready so she could take it and then head out.

Bridget was picking her up and taking them both back to her place for lunch. So (Y/n) wanted to have her insulin just before she left so she would be ready for lunch and wouldn't need anymore insulin later.

"I think so."

(Y/n) stayed propped up against the wall when Evan walked over to her and her lips curved into a grin when he stood in front of her. The look in his eyes was one filled with adoration and it made (Y/n) want to cave in and stay home with him rather than head out.

She watched as he rolled up her shirt and she pinched her lips together to ignore the slight sting of the needle going into her tummy. It was a feeling she was more than used to by now, something that didn't really bother her anymore. Especially not when she had Evan's hands on her skin to counter out the slight discomfort.

Once done, he placed the needle on the side table out the way so his hands could hold (Y/n)'s hips and he ducked his head down to attach his lips to hers. He loved the sound when she moaned against his lips and how she seemed to melt like butter in his hands, allowing him to squeeze and pull her against him and move her in any way he desired.

Once his bruised lips left hers, Evan attached his lips to the side of her neck and tucked his face against the crook of her shoulder. He took a moment to breathe in her scent and feel her arms deadlock around his neck like she didn't want to let him go.

But she would. He would make sure she went out to see Bridget this afternoon, he had a few plans in motion today.

"Suppose I'd better let you go," He murmured softly into her neck and although his words made (Y/n)'s stomach flutter, her brows furrowed slightly.

He wasn't putting up resistance. He wasn't begging her to stay or kissing the life out of her so she forgot where she had wanted to go in the first place. That was how (Y/n) was used to leaving the apartment on the rare occasions that she went out without Evan. She wasn't used to him giving in so easily, it was like they were always playing a game, and yet today, Evan was changing the rules slightly.

(Y/n) hummed in confused agreement and moved her hands to cup either side of Evan's neck, levelling his face with hers so she could take another kiss from his reddened lips.

"Text me when you want a lift home." Each word was muttered against her mouth and had (Y/n) smiling as she inhaled his words to try and stop herself from feeling so lightheaded.

"You sure you don't mind picking me up?"

Her fingers danced along either side of his face and she pecked the corner of his mouth while Evan slid his hands beneath her shirt to hold onto her waist better. His fingers moulded into her sides and along her curves and his chest pressed down into hers, backing her into the wall as he smiled brightly.

"No, I'll come get you just let me know when you're ready." He would always pick her up, wherever she was, whatever either of them were doing. If she wanted to be brought home or wanted a lift somewhere, all she had to do was ask.

When she whispered "Love you." Against his lips, Evan hummed and stole her lower lip between his teeth in a merciless grip.

They stayed entwined together, even as Evan started walking her towards the door when her phone began to ring in her bag. She didn't need to answer for them both to know that it was Bridget who would be parked downstairs waiting to pick her up.

"I love you too. See you soon." His words floated around in her head, leaving (Y/n) feeling like she was drunk as she wandered out the apartment with his words in her head and the feeling of his hands lingering on her waist.

Evan watched her head towards the stairs before he closed the door with a strange kind of grin on his face and a look of triumph in his eyes. Once the door was locked, he reached out for the needle on the side to go and put it away. He tapped the small instrument against his finger, creating a clinking rhythmic sound as he wandered back to the kitchen.

Evan looked down between the counter and the needle with a smile. It wouldn't be long before (Y/n) called and asked for a ride home. Today's insulin dose had been a little different.

He'd given her a higher dose than normal. Eating and then having a high dose of insulin would lead to a hypo. Evan knew that soon, when he kept an eye on her Dexcom app, he would begin to see her levels start to drop and it wouldn't take long either.

Evan had never ventured through with this idea before. He'd thought about it quite a few times. He always considered changing the dose just a little because what better way to subdue (Y/n) and make sure she stayed home and safe with him, where she belonged, than to induce a bad sugar state that Evan could completely control.

He could balance her levels back out very easily and the inbalance and confusion and panic would frighten (Y/n). The experience would glue her to Evan's side and ensure his control. But he hadn't found the need to ever do that before. Until now.

He would get a call soon.

(Y/n) trusted Evan wholeheartedly, she wouldn't think for a moment that he had given her a higher dose or changed her medication on purpose. And with some persuasion, Evan would be able to imply that Bridget was the cause of this. He could imply she had served the wrong food or drinks with far too much sugar. This could be aimed in her direction, nothing would be traced back to Evan.

Bridget wasn't going to be a problem for much longer.

***

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) bowed her head down and took a moment to try and take a deep breath. Breathing properly felt like it was becoming a struggle when her head was clouding over and the need to be sick was increasing dramatically.

At first, she put it down to the fact that she had come out alone rather than having Evan by her side. Going anywhere without him was becoming frightening to (Y/n), but Evan always told her it didn't have to be because he was always going to be with her. She didn't have to worry or panic about what people thought, it didn't matter. All that mattered was he wasn't going to make her go out alone if she wanted him with her.

And it had been over two months since (Y/n) had gone out anywhere without Evan. She wasn't technically on her own, since she was with Bridget, but it was still somewhere away from home where she didn't have Evan beside her. That was frightening in itself.

She thought because she was at Bridget's house, somewhere she didn't usually go that was somewhat unfamiliar, that what she was feeling was panic that she had been trying to supress.

That couldn't be the case. Not when (Y/n) was now starting to feel sick as well as drowsy. This was more than simply feeling anxious.

"You good? Do you need another drink?"

"Hm, I'm good." (Y/n) lifted her head and plastered the best smile she could muster on her face, but she wasn't so sure that it was very convincing. Her hands ran up and down her face that was beginning to sweat and she tilted her head back and tried to straighten up. The last thing she wanted was to look like she was uninterested or like she was about to throw up, no matter how drained she was starting to feel.

When she noticed her hands were shaking, (Y/n) grimaced and turned to the left to find her phone. She had a few notifications from her Dexcom app. With trembling hands, (Y/n) looked through the notifications and clicked onto the app.

Her levels had dropped significantly. How? Why? Evan had given her the insulin injection right before she left and it had been less than an hour since the injection to when (Y/n) and Bridget sat down for something to eat when they were back at Bridget's house.

She had one glass of alcohol and that had been watered down, (Y/n) had seen Bridget make them their drinks. And Bridget only had one glass of alcohol too, she wouldn't drink more if (Y/n) wasn't joining her and alcohol wasn't something that either of them were very bothered by. One small glass shouldn't mess with (Y/n)'s levels so much.

She was used to having one drink with Evan every now and then and nothing ever went wrong or made her go downhill like this.

They hadn't gorged out on food or had lots of sweets or too much to eat or too many carbohydrates. Bridget said she checked what she had cooked them so it wouldn't affect (Y/n). So why were her levels going haywire again?

This wasn't normal; her levels didn't usually drop this fast.

"Do- do you have any sweets? O-or sugary drinks?" She needed to get her levels back up above 4mmol or she would be in the danger zone and this hypo would get worse.

"Sure, one sec." Bridget rested a hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder before she was off into the kitchen.

With a deep breath, (Y/n) started tapping her hands against her knees to rid her hands and arms of the pins and needles rushing through her skin at the moment. She tried to keep her breathing normal and control the panic that was starting to wade through her system.

She wanted Evan. He was usually here by her side when she had any kind of fluctuation in her blood sugar. He knew what to do. He would always look after her and make sure she was okay. She wanted him here.

The thought of Evan brought tears to (Y/n)'s eyes but she warded them away and told herself to pull together. She couldn't cry, she was fine, it was just a little fluctuation that could be kept under control if she acted quickly. She had dealt with hypos all her life, long before she met Evan, and she could deal with this without him here.

"Here you go, this will perk you up." Bridget's voice was soothing and her smile was comforting as she plopped down next to (Y/n) on the sofa.

Bridget always had a way about her, she was calm in situations, much the same as Evan. But she had a way of making a joke or making light of things like this whereas Evan always had that controlling sense instead. He didn't make jokes, he would smile or calm (Y/n) down but he didn't play things off the same as Bridget. Their methods were different but they were always good in a crisis and in these situations.

(Y/n) gratefully took the can of coke she was handed and cracked it open, trying to take a few sips. Whenever she had a hypo it tended to make her feel thirsty, but drinking pop already made her throat dry and made her feel sick sometimes. She couldn't seem to win.

The drink did indeed make her stomach churn, but (Y/n) tried to take a few more sips because the amount of sugar in this drink would surely alter her levels again.

"Try one of these."

She set the drink down on the coffee table when Bridget opened a pack of fruit gummy sweets and held it out towards (Y/n). Bridget popped one into her mouth with a grin as she crossed her legs beneath her on the sofa and (Y/n) took one while she flicked on her phone to keep the Dexcom app open. She had to keep track of her levels.

It was hard to chew when her head was starting to fog over and she felt like she was becoming lethargic.

She heard Bridget try and offer her another sweet and then tell her to have another drink, but she couldn't. (Y/n) feared trying to eat or drink anything else would lead to her choking when she suddenly felt so uneasy.

She was used to Evan sitting in front of her, cupping her chin and popping sweets into her mouth. Or raising a glass to her lips and coaxing her to drink until she was lucid again and she felt back to her usual self.

(Y/n) didn't like this feeling.

She didn't like how drained she was starting to become, or the way that her vision blurred when she tried to look down at her phone. She couldn't read the numbers flashing back at her or see if her levels had risen even point one of a decimal.

A quiet groan left her lips before she flopped onto her right side and let her face burrow down into the soft fleece cushion on the sofa.

"(Y/n), hey, hey look at me," It was too hard to comply with Bridget's request, even when her friend tried to turn her chin and pat her cheek to get her to open her eyes. "(Y/n) what can I do?"

"Evan…" His name barely made it past (Y/n)'s lips in a muffled whisper.

She tapped her index finger against her phone until she found Evan's contact through blurry eyes and she felt Bridget hovering over her shoulder to make sure she actually typed something eligible.

*Sugar levels gone bad. Need you! Please.

*On my way.

Evan's reply was instant and as soon as Bridget read it out to (Y/n), she nodded and burrowed her face back into the cushion. She felt sick. She was thirsty and cold and sweating and shaking all at once. This was a bad one. Hypos didn't usually come on this fast and she didn't usually go downhill like this.

If ever there was a time when she needed Evan's help, it was now.

When Bridget heard a knock at the door, she glanced to her watch with surprise flooding her face. That hadn't taken Evan very long at all to get here. Either he managed to hit a lot of green lights on the way or he had gone past the speed limit to get down here. Not that she was complaining.

She squeezed (Y/n)'s shoulder and got up from the sofa where she had been sat by (Y/n)'s side, doing her best to keep her friend from falling unconscious and getting any worse than this.

"That was quick, she's in here."

The way Bridget ushered Evan inside told him this was serious and that made something ignite in his chest.

He had been waiting for the last hour or so for (Y/n)'s levels to start changing. He had her Dexcom app open on his phone while he mulled about the house and he checked it every five minutes until it started to drop.

Evan had argued with himself about whether to call or text (Y/n) to tell her to have something sugary or just to let her know that he had noticed her levels and ask if she was okay. But he thought it would be best to wait for her to message him. He wasn't sure what she and Bridget would be doing, other than Bridget trying to convince (Y/n) not to marry him.

He knew Bridget would do something, the way she had been on the phone the other day was annoying enough. He knew that when he wasn't around, Bridget would try some form of persuasion to tell (Y/n) marrying him was too soon and that this 'so called friend' would try and poke holes in their relationship.

That was why Evan was glad (Y/n)'s hypo had been sudden and dangerously low, it meant Bridget wouldn't have time to poison (Y/n)'s mind. She would be too worried about helping (Y/n) to try and make waves in her relationship.

Evan nodded and did his best to try and smile at Bridget, he didn't want her knowing he was onto her and how vindictive she was clearly being around (Y/n).

He weaved past her and headed into the living room but his chest tightened and he shuddered through a sigh when he saw (Y/n).

This was worse than he thought.

"Okay," He knelt down in front of the sofa and gently reached his hands out to cup (Y/n)'s face. "Baby, baby are you awake? Let's sit you up." One hand stayed on the side of her neck and the other moved to her waist so he could carefully reel her up and lean her back into the sofa.

She slouched down and her chin flopped down like her neck was made of jelly or her head was as heavy as lead. She could barely keep her eyes on him when when Evan pulled up her eyelid to check her pupils, she didn't even groan or try and pull away from him.

"What did you give her?" He spared Bridget a glance as she sat down on the other side of the sofa, panic in her eyes as she leaned in close to (Y/n) which made Evan inwardly annoyed.

"A can of coke and some fruit pastels, but it hasn't helped." She made a motion towards the table where the sweets were still relatively untouched and the coke had barely been drunk.

"No, before that. What has she eaten to cause a hypo like this?"

Bridget took a moment to reel off what she had made them for lunch. She knew how to make meals with limited carbohydrates and what meals (Y/n) preferred to eat. They had gone out together enough for Bridget to be able to make assumptions and take notes of what her friend would eat and the portion amounts that helped with her condition.

But when she saw the way Evan rose a brow and pursed his lips like he didn't believe her, she frowned and straightened up. The look on her face was defensive to say the least. She hoped Evan wouldn't be implying anything. Bridget hadn't done anything wrong here.

"She had one wine spritzer and it was mostly lemonade, she said one with the insulin she had this morning wouldn't mess with her system."

Evan kept one hand on (Y/n)'s arm while his other hand moved to rub across his jaw. He hadn't counted on that. When he gave her the insulin injection earlier, he made sure it was a higher dose to induce this situation, but he didn't think (Y/n) would have a drink. She wasn't one for alcohol and having alcohol meant changing her usual insulin dose if she was going to have a few drinks.

Giving her an overdose of insulin and (Y/n) having alcohol had induced this hypo quicker than Evan predicted and clearly it had had a worse effect on her. But this was still within Evan's control. If anything, this pushed the situation more into Evan's hands and meant he could take more control over this and over (Y/n).

This had worked in his favour.

"Just one-" He paused briefly when (Y/n) groaned and flopped forward until she was draped over his arm.

"Yes, just one. What does that matter, clearly she isn't well."

"Yeah, and who's fault is that?" Evan let the jagged edge to his voice cut through the air and he didn't spare Bridget one glance as he cupped (Y/n)'s neck and tried to sit her up.

When Bridget's hand grabbed his shoulder, he twisted to the right and looked from her hand on his shoulder and up to her face and back down again. He rose a brow and huffed, shrugging her touch off his shoulder which only caused her to clasp her hands on her hips defensively.

"Excuse me? Who do you think you are? I think you-" Bridget stopped mid-rant when (Y/n) made a sound quite like a whimper and a groan rolled into one.

They both looked back at her but when (Y/n) began to shake, Evan growled and pushed up from his knees. He bent over her as he tilted her back against the sofa, but he hated the way (Y/n)'s eyes rolled to the back of her head. And when her entire body started to shake, a spike seemed to cut through Evan's heart. His hands cupped her face with his thumbs brushing across either side of her mouth when her breaths sounded croaky and she started to froff at the mouth.

"Baby, baby look at me." The urgency in Evan's voice was fearful and Bridget looked from him to (Y/n) and back again.

"What's happening?"

"Her sugar levels are getting too low. I'm taking her to hospital or she's gonna start seizing; she could go into a coma and I won't have that happening."

Evan reeled (Y/n) forward until her cheek was resting on his shoulder and he could weave his arms around her. He had seen her have a hypo like this before and it got to the point where she started seizing. That was dangerous, if she went into a seizure or slipped into a coma then the doctors would have a hard time getting her back to normal levels again.

Evan wouldn't let it get to that point, not when he had caused this in order to make sure Bridget didn't cause anymore trouble for them. He did this so he could look after (Y/n) and that's exactly what he would do.

He lifted her up bridal style into his arms, hating the way she began to shake and writhe in his arms and her breaths sounded like she was gasping.

It was time for a trip to the emergency room.

***

Tears welled up in (Y/n)'s eyes as she looked ahead at Evan. She felt like she was drunk. She felt drowsy and her stomach was churning like she was going to be sick and that thought made her knees pull up towards her stomach. She imbedded her knees into her stomach and pressed both arms into her chest while her face burrowed into the pillow.

She hadn't long woken up. She could barely remember Evan bringing her to the emergency room. Everything felt like a strange dream that was fading from memory right before her eyes. Voices were drifting in one ear and disappearing out the other, becoming forever lost. Flashing lights and people and faces were fading at the back of her mind.

All (Y/n) could remember was falling asleep on Bridget's sofa and waking up to Evan combing his fingers through her hair as she laid in bed on a ward in the hospital.

She felt the all too familiar sensation of a cannula in the back of her right hand that was giving her fluids and a monitored insulin drip. And she was sure she could taste the remnants of glucose powder on the inside of her cheeks when she darted her tongue around her mouth. But she wasn't sure whether the emergency room nurses or if Evan had administered it to her.

"First Cathy, now Bridget. Jesus Christ."

(Y/n) winced at the affirming tone in Evan's voice and she gingerly reached her left hand out to try and tangle her fingers with Evan's. She sighed quietly in relief when he obliged and held his hand out so she could take it. Her fingers squeezed tightly into the back of his hand and she pulled it close while she nudged her face against the pillow to wipe away her tears.

"She- she didn't mean it." (Y/n) hated how scratchy her voice sounded and when Evan held out a plastic cup of water and a straw towards her, (Y/n) tried to take it from him. But her hand began to shake and it was clear Evan wasn't actually handing it over to her but holding it out to her instead.

She took a few sips, feeling a little better and like she could actually talk now. Bridget hadn't done anything on purpose like Cathy, she didn't hide alcohol in (Y/n)'s drinks and she hadn't tried to be spiteful or vindictive. She tried to help… didn't she?

"Baby, whatever she fed you wasn't proportioned right, or that drink was bloody strong. I've only seen you pass out in shakes like that once. The doctors had to give you glucagon shots, we thought you were gonna start seizing."

At least the one other time this had happened, that hadn't been down to anybody. That hadn't been down to Evan, at least. But this was Bridget's doing, Evan would make sure everyone saw that, especially (Y/n). This was serious, Evan hadn't needed to bring (Y/n) to the hospital for her diabetes since before they got engaged, since before they moved in together, even.

"I was scared." (Y/n)'s voice sounded fragile and she winced at how frightened she had felt when she was on the verge of passing out.

She had been scared Evan wasn't with her. She had been frightened when Evan turned up because she could barely see or hear him, and then everything went black. What would she have done if she didn't manage to message Evan? What would Bridget do if Evan didn't turn up when he did? Would she of known what to do and to call an ambulance?

"You gave me a fright, baby girl."

(Y/n) tugged on Evan's hand until he shuffled his chair closer and his knees bumped into the bedframe.

"I don't think you should be going out with Bridget anymore."

Evan's words made (Y/n) shiver and she whimpered into the pillow. Maybe she shouldn't be out with Bridget on her own, not if Bridget wasn't used to being around someone with diabetes and if she didn't know what to do. But (Y/n) could still meet up with her. They were friends, they got along and Bridget didn't have anything against (Y/n), she wasn't cruel like Cathy and she wasn't trying to take advantage.

"But- but she's my friend-"

"You're friend who knew you were diabetic and almost sent you into shock. She clearly can't help you, she didn't even bother to try and call you an ambulance. You were practically unconscious and she didn't even blink. What if I didn't come and get you quick enough? You could have gone into a coma."

(Y/n) winced at his words, but there was logic behind his words that made her begin to cry.

"She didn't help?" The panic in her voice made Evan wince and he pursed his lips as he shook his head.

(Y/n) didn't remember. She could hear the faint sound of Bridget's voice, trying to tell her something, trying to keep her awake and responsive. But she didn't remember Bridget panicking. She didn't remember her trying to help or trying to call for an ambulance or even ringing Evan to ask for help. Bridget did none of that.

Did she really not seem bothered when Evan turned up? Was she honestly not that distressed or panicked that (Y/n) was clearly going into a state of shock and was unresponsive?

If that was the case, how could (Y/n) trust her? How could she go out with Bridget and be around her if she was always going to be at risk? If Bridget stood by and did nothing whenever (Y/n) wasn't well that made her a liability and a danger to (Y/n)'s health.

"I had to carry you to the jeep and bring you here, she didn't call for any help. Baby I'm the only one who's taking proper care of you, no one else knows how."

This was the turning point Evan needed. He had proven time and time again that he was the only person who could take proper care of (Y/n). He had helped her when Cathy purposely tried to make her sick. He kept her safe when Arthur from the other station tried to chat her up and get far too close when she was on her own and vulnerable.

And here, again, Evan had made sure he was the one who actually took care of (Y/n). Sure, Bridget had tried to give her sugar and keep her awake and responsive, but she didn't do much else. It was Evan who assessed (Y/n)'s situation and got her down to the emergency room swiftly. And while waiting, albeit they only had to wait five minutes, Evan had rubbed glucose powder into (Y/n)'s mouth to make sure she didn't go into shock.

He was the only person who had consistently taken care of (Y/n) and this proved that he was the only one equipped to keep taking care of her.

She couldn't go out without him. She couldn't hang around with friends or other people if Evan wasn't there.

He had complete control and this allowed him to take ultimate care of her and to ensure that she relied on him. This meant Evan didn't have to worry and it meant (Y/n) would always be safe with him.

"You don't need anyone else, you have me. And the team are your friends now too, at least they can help you in an emergency like I can."

Evan's friends were (Y/n)'s friends now. That was a comfort to (Y/n), it was such a relief that all of Evan's friends were so kind towards her and that they liked her and took her in as one of their own. And they were professionals and medics like Evan, if (Y/n) wasn't well or she started to have a hypo or a hyperglacemia, all the team would know how to treat her.

Evan could trust them with (Y/n), they were his friends and if they helped (Y/n) it wouldn't be taking away any of the control he had. And they would ultimately call for Evan and he would be the one to do the aftercare with (Y/n).

There wouldn't really be a time when the team would need to help (Y/n), he would always be there with her so that was a situation that would hardly ever arise. (Y/n) wouldn't leave Evan's sight after this, just what he needed. She would submit to him, she would only be around him and her world would revolve around him. Just like Evan's every waking moment was spent thinking about and being with (Y/n).

And if (Y/n) only spent her time around Evan and she only hung around with his friends, then Evan had complete control over where she went and when and who she was with. He didn't have to worry about people trying to poison her mind against him or telling her that she didn't need him.

When Evan got up from his chair and moved to perch on the side of the bed, (Y/n) smiled through her tears. She shuffled down and laid her cheek on Evan's thigh, coiling around him like a snake and she pulled his arm towards her chest again so she could kiss his exposed forearm.

"She didn't do anything to help." It was more of an uttered statement about Bridget to herself than voicing to Evan, but she heard and felt him hum in agreement.

"No baby, she didn't."

"You're right. I don't wanna see her again."

A smile crept across Evan's face as he started to card his fingers through her hair while his other hand was deadlocked against her chest.

That was what he wanted to hear. Bridget would have become a problem. She was questioning their upcoming wedding and if it was too soon. She would start to comment how (Y/n) never went out without Evan, he just knew she would do that. And she was the kind of person who was broad and outspoken.

Evan couldn't be dealing with that. This was the easiest way to get rid of her, but if he had to go to extreme measures like he did with Cathy, then that was okay. Evan didn't mind frightening Bridget into her place because he knew she wouldn't go up against him. She had been frightened of him earlier, he saw that in her eyes and that was what he needed to have control over her too.

"I don't… if you didn't come over, I… I don't know what I'd do, without you Evan."

Tears began to trickle down (Y/n)'s face that she tucked into his thigh. It was frightening to think that if Evan hadn't of turned up when he did, (Y/n) could have been a lot worse off. If Evan wasn't there (Y/n) could go into hypos, she could suffer panic attacks, she could collapse or go into a coma. Absolutely anything could happen if Evan wasn't with her.

"Anything c-could happen-"

"Hey, you don't have to worry about that. Nothing's gonna happen because I'm always gonna be here with you. I'm always gonna be with you, nothing will change that. I promise."

Evan had already set everything in motion. It was now written in stone that (Y/n) wouldn't have to go anywhere without him. He had isolated her so he was at the centre of her world and she was at the centre of his. They needed each other, but (Y/n) didn't need anyone else interfering with them and their lives.

Evan leaned down to kiss her flushed temple and he bound his arms around her as she laid over his lap.

It was all okay now; he had made sure of that.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

By Nikhil Prasad

Medical News: As the COVID-19 pandemic continues to unfold, new research highlights a startling link between the virus and metabolic disorders. A study conducted at the "Victor Babes" University of Medicine and Pharmacy in Timisoara, Romania, reveals how COVID-19 can trigger insulin resistance, even in individuals with no prior history of diabetes. This development sheds light on the long-term metabolic consequences of the virus, raising concerns for millions of COVID-19 survivors worldwide.

The research team focused on understanding the relationship between long COVID-19 syndrome and metabolic disruptions. This Medical News report aims to make their findings accessible to a wider audience, emphasizing the risks associated with the virus's lingering effects.

The Study: Design and Key Findings This prospective observational study included 143 non-diabetic individuals who had tested positive for SARS-CoV-2 between January 2020 and December 2022. Participants underwent evaluations at the time of hospital admission, and follow-ups were conducted four and twelve months later. Researchers measured fasting glucose, insulin, and C-peptide levels using intravenous arginine stimulation tests, along with body mass index (BMI) and inflammatory markers like high-sensitivity C-reactive protein (hs-CRP) and erythrocyte sedimentation rate (ESR).

Key findings from the study include: -Insulin Resistance and Long COVID: Approximately 30.7% of the participants developed long COVID-19 syndrome. Of these, 75% exhibited insulin resistance and eventually developed diabetes within one year, compared to 55.8% of those without long COVID-19.

-Impact of Obesity: Among obese participants (BMI > 30 kg/m²), 62% experienced elevated blood glucose levels a year post-infection.

Surprisingly, obesity rates did not differ significantly between those with and without long COVID-19, suggesting that other factors, such as chronic inflammation, play a pivotal role.

-Inflammatory Markers and Metabolic Disturbances: Elevated hs-CRP and ESR levels correlated with insulin resistance, highlighting the role of inflammation in disrupting metabolic health.

However, the triglyceride-glucose (TyG) index, another marker of insulin resistance, showed weaker correlations, pointing to the complexity of the underlying mechanisms.

Chronic Inflammation: A Central Culprit The study underscores the role of chronic inflammation in the development of insulin resistance among COVID-19 survivors. Prolonged activation of the immune system, potentially triggered by viral remnants or autoimmune responses, can interfere with insulin signaling. This disruption leads to poor glucose absorption by cells, resulting in elevated blood sugar le vels.

The virus's ability to infect pancreatic beta cells, which are crucial for insulin production, exacerbates this problem. By binding to ACE2 receptors on these cells, SARS-CoV-2 can impair their function, causing a decline in insulin secretion. This interplay of inflammation and cellular damage creates a perfect storm for the onset of metabolic disorders.

Implications for Public Health and Patient Care The findings highlight the urgent need for healthcare systems to prioritize monitoring metabolic health in COVID-19 survivors, especially those with long COVID-19 syndrome. Routine screenings for insulin resistance, glucose levels, and inflammatory markers could help identify at-risk individuals early, enabling timely interventions.

For patients, adopting a healthier lifestyle becomes more critical than ever. Weight management, regular exercise, and a balanced diet can help mitigate the risk of developing insulin resistance and other metabolic complications.

Future Directions in Research and Treatment The study opens the door for further investigations into the molecular mechanisms linking COVID-19 to insulin resistance. Understanding these pathways could pave the way for targeted therapies to prevent or reverse metabolic damage. Potential treatments might include anti-inflammatory drugs, insulin-sensitizing medications, and advanced glucose-lowering therapies like SGLT2 inhibitors and GLP-1 receptor agonists.

Moreover, ongoing trials, such as the DARE trial examining dapagliflozin's efficacy in hospitalized COVID-19 patients, may offer insights into how existing diabetes treatments can benefit long COVID-19 sufferers.

Conclusion This research highlights a concerning connection between COVID-19 and insulin resistance, even in individuals without prior metabolic conditions. The long-term implications of this link extend beyond the immediate health crisis, signaling a potential wave of diabetes cases in the years to come. As healthcare providers and researchers grapple with these findings, a comprehensive approach addressing both respiratory and metabolic health will be crucial.

The study findings were published in the peer-reviewed Journal of Personalized Medicine. www.mdpi.com/2075-4426/14/9/911

[moodycowplant]

126. Struggles and Baby Plans 👶

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With all the guests and New Year’s activities, Lana’s condition began to deteriorate rapidly.

She felt tired the moment she woke up, like she hadn’t slept at all. Yet when she did manage to sleep, her bladder would betray her, forcing her out of bed almost every hour.

She was always hungry, but no food stayed in her stomach for long. Dizziness came and went in waves, and she felt weak all the time.

Conrad saw it all and tried to make her as comfortable as possible.

He took on every responsibility without hesitation, doing his best to keep her comfortable, but no amount of care could soothe what was happening to her.

Worse than the physical toll was the emotional.

Lana’s mood swung unpredictably—one moment, she was laughing, the next, she was in tears or snapping at him over nothing.

He tried to be patient, to remind himself it wasn’t her fault, but the pressure was building

One morning, after a long night of not getting much sleep, he found her sitting on the edge of the bed, holding her head in her hands.

“That’s it,” he said with a voice full of concern. “We’re going to the doctor today, not in a few days.”

Lana groaned and looked up at him.

“We already have an appointment. It’s just a few days away. I don’t need to—”

“You do,” Conrad interrupted with his worry taking over. “You’re barely eating, you’re always running to the bathroom, and you can hardly stand up. This isn’t right, Lana!”

Lana stared at him for a moment with obvious irritation in her eyes.

“I don’t want to sit in a doctor’s office all day just to hear that I need to rest and drink more water,” she snapped.

“And what if it’s something worse?” he asked, stepping closer to her. “What if waiting makes it worse?”

She stopped and looked away, while her hands gripping the blanket tighter. Deep down, she knew he was right.

Conrad softened his voice and reached for her hands.

“I know you hate doctors. I know you don’t want to make a big deal out of it. But Lana… I can’t just sit here and watch you get worse. Please, let’s go.”

Lana hesitated for a second, then sighed and nodded.

“Fine. But if they tell me it’s just a stomach bug, you owe me a nice dinner after this.”

Conrad smiled with relief, squeezing her hands.

“Deal. But I’m hoping it’s something simple, because I just want you to feel better.”

Lana gave a tired smile. “Me too.”

Without another word, Conrad grabbed his jacket and car keys. This time, he wasn’t going to let her talk him out of it.

----------------------------------˚ʚ♡ɞ˚------------------------------------

It was Sunday, and the hospital was running on emergency mode. Despite the chaos, Lana and Conrad were quickly seen by the doctor on duty.

After a thorough examination and a series of tests, the doctor finally gave them the news.

"Lana, you’ve developed another complication—gestational diabetes," the doctor explained, flipping through her chart. "This is something we’ll need to manage closely. I’d recommend hospitalization for a few days so we can monitor you more carefully."

Lana immediately shook her head, her tired eyes filled with frustration and tears.

"I don’t want to stay here," she said in a quieter voice than usual, but still firm. "I’ll follow all your recommendations, I promise. Just let me go home."

Conrad, sitting beside her, frowned.

He could see how tired she was, but he knew better than to push her too much.

"Are you sure, Lana?" he asked gently, worried. "The doctor thinks it might be safer if you stay here, even for a little while."

She met his gaze. "I’m not staying here, Conrad. I’ll be fine."

The doctor sighed, clearly used to patients who were as stubborn as Lana.

"Alright, but we need to monitor your blood sugar very closely. No shortcuts. And make sure you stick to the diet and insulin regimen—everything we discussed."

Lana gave a nod.

"I will."

The rest of the visit was a blur of forms and routine checks.

Lana then went through an additional ultrasound, and as the technician moved the wand across her belly, her eyes focused on the screen.

The doctor worked carefully, scanning the images, until she finally spoke.

"Alright, I’ve got a good look," the doctor said with a smile. "We’ve got the gender here, but we’ve kept it sealed for now."

Lana’s heart skipped a beat as the doctor handed them an envelope, before leaving.

She looked at Conrad with a small smile playing on her lips.

"We didn’t want to know the gender," she said softly. "We’re saving it for the baby shower."

Conrad raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "A baby shower? Lana, with your health like this? Are you sure about that?"

She gave him a playful, challenging look. "I’m sure. And you’re going to help me organize it."

Conrad rubbed his forehead, frustrated. "You’re unbelievable, you know that?"

Lana grinned, clearly pleased with herself. "I know, but it’s going to happen. I want to announce it the right way. I want everyone there to celebrate with us."

He shook his head, fighting back a laugh. "You’re impossible. But fine, I’ll help."

Lana’s expression softened with relief and determination. "I knew you would. You always do, even when I drive you crazy."

Conrad smiled, but there was still a hint of concern in his eyes. "Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself. The baby shower can wait, but you can’t."

"I will. But don’t expect me to back down on this," she nodded in agreement.

He leaned in to kiss her forehead, shaking his head with a fond smile. "You’re one stubborn woman, Lana."

She winked at him. "Yes, but you wouldn’t have me any other way."

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[trek-tracks]

hello! I am also diabetic (type one). I’m curious if when you think of star trek or yourself in Star Trek if you imagine having diabetes still? I think either way is valid, just curious. I go back and forth trying to figure out if they would have cured it or just advanced insulin pumps to the point of being practically seamless with day to day life. For me being diabetic is so integral to my personality I kind of don’t know if I would like to think of it as being cured? It’s cool if you don’t want to answer too! Just thought I’d ask :)

This is an interesting question.

I've always thought about my type one diabetes as being solidly on the second end of the disability "spectrum," so to speak, where the first end is "this is integral to my personality and who I am, accommodate but do not 'cure' me," and the second is "this brings nothing but pain to my life, please cure me immediately."

The only accommodation that would fully make my life better, in my opinion, (which is only my opinion about my own disability), is either a functional cure (artificial pancreas) or actual cure (no machinery necessary), the latter of which I would prefer, because frankly I'm sick of wearing a pump and a cgm 24/7 and the sheer amount of waste it produces, which is not my fault because I need to live, but still weighs heavily on me (and takes up a large amount of space in my apartment). Not to mention the scheduling--this message brought to you by me being woken up at 5am by an empty insulin pump and realizing that, no, I don't seem to have any unused cartridges left, so I have to use an old one and pray that the pump accepts it while waiting for the delivery of the supplies I just now ordered, which cost $750.

When I think about a life in the Star Trek universe, I can really only think about being transferred there now, as I am, with the life I have led, and I think that's what also shapes my decision. If I had been born into the Star Trek universe, there are so many aspects of my personality that might have been different, considering I wouldn't have to worry about scarcity and affordability of, for example, housing. Instead of being a theatre critic as a second job that feeds my soul but doesn't pay the bills, I'd probably be a playwright/dramaturg/critic full time. However, I might find not having a job outside of the theatre world to be detrimental, because when people don't have lives outside of theatre, their writing tends to get smaller and more insular.

This is a digression, but what I mean is: I can only see me as I am now joining a Starfleet world, rather than trying to envision the person I would be if I'd begun my life there. I mean, I certainly wouldn't be known for making memes about Star Trek, the TV show, if Star Trek were reality instead of entertainment, so things would be different in a number of ways. I can't even think about all the ways my life could have been different in this reality without getting a headache.

In that case, I have learned a lot from being diabetic, including patience and empathy for other people, and a strong sense of social justice. I've learned a lot about food and exercise and how they affect the body. I've learned responsibility and self-management. I've made more peace with aging than many of my friends, because I've felt prematurely "old" (aches, pains, contemplation of mortality) since I was a preteen. I think I would have some form of these things without diabetes, but my worldview would likely be different. In a way, I'm grateful for these lessons, and I don't know if born-into-Star-Trek me would be insufferable.

That being said, I firmly believe that having diabetes for more than 25 years means that diabetes has taught me all about life it's going to teach me. I'm done. If I were to wake up tomorrow without it, I'd, in the words of Beyond McCoy, "throw a party." A party with plenty of cake. Or, to misquote The Voyage Home, "The doctor gave me a pill, and I grew a new pancreas!"

Now that it's part of me, its absence might leave me somewhat adrift, but I think of all the time I've lost to it where I could have been enjoying life and been allowed to be the unfettered me I desired to be, and I say, good riddance.

[cheetahspy]

Ledger!Joker x Diabetic Reader Headcanons

Warnings: Medical stuff, needles/injections (it’s not very descriptive though), slight NSFW mention (labeled at the bottom)

A/N: Heya! I’ve never posted something like this before haha…Kinda new to it and very nervous so don’t judge me too harshly. I actually write quite often but rarely post it, however I really wanna start trying to put my work out there more. Keyword try. 

Anyway, fun fact about me, I have T1 diabetes. I haven't seen anything about that with J so I decided to make my own headcanons and such :) Sooooo here’s that lol…enjoy??

You had been diagnosed with T1 diabetes three years ago. You hated it. The needles, the upkeep, the blood, the appointments. It’s scary, a living nightmare for you.

You were still in your…adjusting phase, and didn’t like talking about your diabetes to anyone. Joker was no exception

So, naturally, J took matters into his own hands and did his own research, learning as much as he could about diabetes (without you knowing, of course). How it works, the high and low blood sugar levels, how to manage it, he even figured out how the insulin pump that you have operates. 

You were shocked the day he offered to change the infusion set for you and knowing how to do so. He ignored you when you asked him how he knew.

You were hesitant but quick to give in and let him inject the cannula into your stomach. He hugged you from behind as he did so; you melted into his touch and your fears were comforted. From that day on you opened up more and more about your medical life to J and allowed his help. 

He enjoys being the one to inject the cannula and dexcom, however he still forces you to do it yourself at times, as to make sure you aren’t getting too used to being dependent on someone else. You’re a strong and brave bunny, he wants to remind you of that. 

He will tease you about your dexcom and infusion sets, saying you must be part machine. 

“I’m uh, still convinced you’re a cyborg.” “J!!”

He also forces you to stay on a healthy diet and keeps track of your sugar intake carefully. He’s definitely not a hypocrite. He rarely lets you eat junk food, even though you’re allowed to and tried explaining that to him

“The doctors told me it’s okay if I eat sugar now and then, as long as I have the insulin for it. It’s the sugary drinks I need to avoid more.” 

J doesn’t buy it, nor does he trust your doctor's input. “Mmm. Nuh uh. Can’T have my little bunny go falling into a coma, hm?” You know he’s just concerned about you (even if he’d never outright admit it), so overtime you stopped arguing with him and avoided junk food to ease his mind. Just don’t let him catch you eating it behind his back.

J absentmindedly fidgets with your insulin tube. Rubbing along it, flicking it around, twirling it around his finger, even constantly feeling the cannula end of it against your stomach as if to reassure himself you that it’s still on and doing its job. Don’t worry, he’s only accidentally ripped it out once or twice, and he certainly makes it up to you when that happens. 

Having a low, but forgot sugar to combat it? Not to worry! Joker keeps a juice box or two in his suit juuuust for you. He’s even stacked packages of juices in your pantry so you’ll have plenty. (Don’t ask whether he bought or stole them, you already know the answer)

The low blood sugar episodes hit you hard, but you’ve found curling up on J’s lap and cuddling against his chest while sipping on juice is very comforting. He’ll stroke your hair and rub your back, holding you closer whenever you shake and cry.

“Shhhh sh sh sh. It’s nothin’ you haven’t beaten before. It’ll pass, angel.” 

You hate looking at your stomach and seeing the previous holes and scars from constant injections. J will run his thumb over them and kiss each of them to comfort you. 

Whenever you have a headache or any symptoms, J will immediately interrogate you about your blood sugar level

“Not every pain I get is caused by my diabetes.”

“Shuuuuush. What’re levels right now? Let me uh, lemme see your pum-p. Give. Right. Now.” 

If you’re low on insulin and the pharmacist is late to sending you new vials, J will meet with them personally to have a little chat. 

He’ll then come home and plop the bag of new vials theatrically down on the counter. “Tadaaaa! More insulin for my sweet little sugar cube.”

“Oh, thank you J! Wow, they gave me a lot this time…” 

NSFW:

During the ✨devils tango✨, J will occasionally rip the cannula out by accident. He’ll immediately put a pin in your lovemaking session to get you a new one. Even if you insist you could go an hour or two without it, he’s not taking any chances. After all, where’s the fun in sex if your partner is dying from a seizure??

“J, I promise it’s okay! We don’t have to sto-”

“Now now gumdrop. I know you’re, heh, eager for me, but my patient needs her medicine first.” 

You’re grateful you don’t have to deal with your disability alone anymore. Who knew the Clown Prince of Crime could be such a good caretaker?

[yurimage]

I had another type 1 diabetic tell me once that she didn't consider herself disabled so therefore there was no need for me to call myself disabled. I didn't say anything at the time but I think about it a lot.

I don't think T1D comes on a spectrum or anything persay, but I think some people's bodies just handle it better somehow.

The past 4 days have been hell. My CGM prescription ran out over 2 weeks ago and my new insurance has been making me jump through hoops to get more; so I've been consistently hyperglycemic since then. I've had a lot of problems with my insulin pump since thursday so this made the problem a lot worse. To the point where I haven't really been able to do much the past two days, I didn't even leave the dorm today because I could barely manage to stand for more than 2 minutes without feeling like I was going to pass out. And this isn't rare for me. Regardless as to technical issues, I have a LOT of days like this. Days where I'm too weak to stand, or so dehydrated I start to develop heart problems. This really isn't out of the norm for me.

I'm really glad that for some type 1 diabetics they can go about their life minimally affected; but it just doesn't work like that for me. I am disabled, and the way in which that affects me sucks so bad but I truly don't mind using that label for myself. It's just how my life is.

[yonduismarrypoppins]

Hello, I am Amal, a mother of seven children ranging from 15 years to 7 months old. Due to escalated war conditions, I relocated to the south, leaving my husband in the north to care for his ailing father. I am eager to reunite with my husband and children as soon as possible. I have initiated a fundraising campaign to support our journey, and I look forward to your support and participation to collectively become a beacon of hope in achieving this dream🙏🙏.

https://gofund.me/9d6e3b04

Hello Amal! Thank you for sharing your family’s story with me, I hope I can help you all get out of Gaza safely!

Below is Amal’s story from the accounts pinned post!

I'm Amal, 33 years old. My husband Eyad is 39, and we have seven children: Hala (15), Nour (13), Abdelrahman (11), Mohammed (9), Omar (6), Ahmed (4), and baby Hoor, just 7 months old.

In the blink of an eye, we awoke to a devastating barrage of bombs. The war had begun, and soon tanks surrounded us as the northern Gaza Strip was declared off-limits. We fled immediately from the north, leaving behind my husband who had to stay with his elderly father who cannot walk. The presence of checkpoints and the prohibition of vehicles forced my husband to remain in the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood in the north of Gaza.

My four-year-old son, Ahmed, suffers from diabetes. It is a constant struggle to find insulin injections and test strips. Weeks go by without being able to check his sugar levels, leaving me in fear of whether his levels are too high or too low.

I fled on foot, just ten days after giving birth. I carried my ten-day-old baby and my other young children, alone, fighting for their safety. A few days later, the northern Gaza Strip was completely isolated, leaving my husband trapped.

I cannot bear the panic attacks that Hoor suffers from the constant bombing

It was incredibly difficult to care for my children without my husband, moving from one place to another. I finally sought refuge in a shelter school in Deir Al-Balah.

My children have been deprived of their father, who used to provide all their needs. Their schooling has been halted, and their mental health is in ruins due to the war. My baby girl cannot get proper nutrition and is unable to sleep due to the constant sounds of bombs.

My husband remains in the north, experiencing severe famine. Periodically, I manage to contact him, learning that he is still alive, but his situation is dire.

We want to escape Gaza and survive this tragic war, to build a decent life for my family, providing the basics of life: food, medical care, and a safe home.

Your donations can make a world of difference for us.

Every dollar can help us escape this nightmare and start anew. Your generosity can reunite our family, provide essential medical care for Ahmed, and ensure my children grow up in a peaceful environment.

Your kindness and support mean everything to us.

May God bless you for your compassion.

Greetings & Gratitude Amal

Please donate to their gofundme and help this family get out of Gaza!

[sweatyobservationchild]

eet Amal, an 8-year-old child living in Gaza, Palestine. Amidst the conflict and hardships that have marked her young life, Amal has shown incredible resilience. She lost her father in an airstrike last year, and her mother struggles to provide for her and her three siblings in a war-torn environment. Every day is a battle for Amal and her family, who face challenges that many of us can’t imagine: the lack of clean water, medical care, and even a safe place to sleep.

Despite these adversities, Amal remains hopeful. She dreams of becoming a doctor, wanting to heal the wounded and bring peace to her homeland. She loves to draw, often sketching her vision of a peaceful Palestine, where children can play freely without fear of bombs or gunfire.

It is so saddening that Amal needs Insulin to help her keep pushing as she is suffering from diabetes. I am her doctor and I am really pushing hard for her to manage to get the best out of this but at times it proves difficult.

This Tumblr is dedicated to sharing Amal’s story and the stories of countless other children in Gaza who are suffering in silence. With your help, we can raise awareness and support organizations on the ground providing food, medical aid, psychological support, and education to children like Amal. Together, we can give them a chance to dream again and a reason to believe in a brighter future.

Join us in making a difference. Share Amal’s story. Raise your voice for peace. Check on info

https://www.paypal.me/UNITYINFX?locale.x=en_AU

[shippergirl-14]

Stan head canons

Hii, these are a little based on the episodes and popular opinions, but I also wanted to share some of my ideas. I guess most of them apply when he is older. ( Also, excuse my bad English in some of the phrases. I’m not sure if it’s right)

Please feel free to share your own head canons ^^

He is the messiest person to ever exist. All his clothes are scattered around his room together with music sheets and occasionally cans from energy drinks.

He loves animals, especially dogs. He sometimes goes to the local animal shelter to play with them. He drags Kyle with him.

He also invites Kyle everyday to walk Sparky with him. He loves walking around at dawn since the streets aren’t that busy.

His sleep schedule is completely messed up. He stays up way too long even on school days to play video games or work on songs.

He either has too much energy for the day or no at all. There is no in between.

Whenever he has to do an assignment, he is always procrastinating until the very last day. Somehow he always managed to finish it ( sometimes with Kyle’s help)

He wouldn’t survive a day without music. His headphones are always turned up to the max, making his friends question how his ears are still okay.

His music taste includes almost everything and he couldn’t tell you what his favorite song is. He also writes his own songs and plays the guitar. He wishes to be in a band again and is trying to convince some of his friends to join.

He somehow is still the quarterback of the football team, but he doesn’t take it really seriously. It’s fun sometimes though. The school forces every student to join a sports club.

His best subjects are music and history. Everything else is pretty average.

He only drinks at parties or with friends, but he often overestimates himself and ends up drunk and Kyle has to get him home.

He has undiagnosed adhd.

He is really good at Super Smash, but sucks at Mario Kart.

Stan loves Kyle’s hair and always tries to talk him out of cutting it. ( he had cried once when Kyle shaved his head as a kid)

He is the cousin of Craig and also has peruvian roots. He can speak Spanish, but is mad that Craig is better at it.

He is bisexual.

He absolutely can’t flirt without making it extremely awkward. His bros are the exception.

He either replies to a message immediately or weeks later. Phone calls aren’t even let through with a few exceptions like his mom, Kyle or Kenny.

Stan has given himself an earring and wanted give himself a piercing too. Kyle stopped him ( fr don’t do that. Mine got infected).

He has the habit of dying his hair blonde whenever something slightly inconvenient happens and regrets it afterwards.

Stan used to hold Kyle’s hand whenever he had to take his insulin shot. Since Kyle once nearly died from his diabetes, he is a bit more cautious about his best friend’s health.

Almost everyone likes him since he is a pretty chill guy.

He rarely eats meat and pays attention to only buying bio products.

[type1diabetesinfandom]

Hello all!

Many, manymanymany apologies for the unannounced hiatus. (Still ongoing. Not enough spoons. D: ) I will be back at some point, I promise.

I've been thinking of this blog a lot, what it means to me, and what I want it to be, especially when I don't have the energy to maintain it. Obviously, collecting all the t1d rep I can find in one place is a huge goal! And I think I've made a pretty good start on that. There's over one thousand posts on this blog and several hundred fics in the AO3 collection. That's a lot of search and save.

That's not all I want to do, though. Fandom, to me, is about the things we love. Reading them, writing them, gushing about them in the middle of the night. Throwing your pencil at the wall because you can't get the angle of that epically-sexy jawline just right. And most of all, sharing it all.

I don't think I'm alone when I say community is HUGE for both people with type one diabetes and folks in fandom.

I think we all know exactly how niche the concept of a character with T1D is. Sure, we can make (and have made!) fics and fan art with T1D rep, but then what? Is there somewhere we can talk about it with fandom friends and have them really get it, or do they just nod mutely and change the subject? Where can you headcanon a character as diabetic without it turning into an educational post?

Or, if you're interested in learning more about life with T1D, whether you don't have it at all or maybe you do but you're on MDI and don't know how to write pumps, who can you ask about it?

And on the flipside: have you ever tried talking fandom at diabetes camp? Because I have.

If any of this feels familiar to you, I've got something awesome to tell you!

Introducing...the Type 1 Diabetes in Fandom Discord Server—a virtual haven where diabetes doesn't define us, but our love for fandoms and creativity certainly does! Whether you're crafting intricate AUs or just can't get the next chapter fast enough, this is YOUR community to thrive, connect, and share ideas or experiences.

What's in it for You?

A safe and supportive space to chat about your fave fics, share recs, and maybe even create some epic friendships

A chance to join discussions on realistic representation and the magical realm of diabetic fan theories

Swap prompts to spark your imagination and fuel your creative prowess

A place to discuss the highs and lows (literally!) of managing Type 1 Diabetes while pursuing your passion for everything fannish

...and all without worry that people won't understand why it's so frustrating when a character fixes their low BG with a timely insulin bolus!

*tip for writers: please google how insulin works before hitting post, please. I beg you.

So if you're up for mingling with like-minded fans or gaining a better understanding of diabetes, this is your opportunity!

Whether you're making a Hogwarts AU or need to cry about your Dexcom readings, we're ready and waiting to meet you. Excited to embark on this epic adventure and make some new friends? Click that join button, and come join the party!

*The Join Button*

[greenpinkstraw]

Assalamu alaikum, My name is Charity Akhavere Amira, and I'm a disabled Palestine queer with type 2 diabetes. Tragically, my family's evacuation plans from Gaza were thwarted by the loss of my father our breadwinner during the genocide. Recently, my mother fell victim to an airstrike in Deir Al-Balah, leaving me without a home. With no income and relying on the kindness of friends, I urgently need to evacuate to Egypt for safety. Managing my condition which require insulin without consistent access to medication makes this situation even more critical. Any donation, no matter how small, would make a world of difference. KINDLY COME THROUGH FOR ME.

Please reblog and donate If you can