i love you so much if you are diabetic, or pre-diabetic. our society treats diabetes so poorly. it's such a readily mocked condition, people often times resort to blaming the individual for having it, even going so far as to pass judgment on the diabetic's character, regardless of what type of diabetes they have.
diabetics are wonderful and deserve to love themselves regardless of whether or not they 'gave' themselves their diabetes. whether or not the person is "unhealthy" whether or not the person eats "right" or knows how to eat in ways that are safer for their body doesn't matter, they still deserve love, respect, and compassion.
diabetes is not a fucking judge of character. diabetics deserve better. diabetics deserve respect. diabetics deserve to be recognized as disabled. diabetics deserve kindness, love, care, compassion, and support. no matter what.
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Weird rant but I’m EXHAUSTED by the fact that medical supplies are either mind-numbingly clinical or literally made for children.
I’m sick of having to buy adhesive patches for my CGM that are covered in crayon scribble and unicorn patterns because all the rest are depressingly plain and I just want something colorful and FUN.
I’m sick of disabled young adults being completely overlooked by society because the stereotypes only include “decrepit elderly person” and “poor innocent child who doesn’t deserve the horrors of a disability”.
I’m sick of the idea that disabled people are incapable/undeserving of being happy and enjoying life and should just settle for a Dull Gray Existence, and if they ARE happy, then they’re an ✨amazing special inspiration✨ who’s going to constantly be put on a pedestal and infantilized to hell and back.
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How Low Can You Go ?
Diabetic!reader x Stucky
Summary: reader’s blood sugar drops in the middle of the night
Warnings: Dangerously low blood sugar, low blood sugar symptoms (head racing, shaky, brain fog), crying, blood, mention of glucose tablets (which is kinda a medication? It helps get your blood sugar up), orange juice, fluff, pet names (Ladybug, princess, sweetie, honey, etc)
Short and sweet enough to give your hyperglycemia (high blood sugar)
For reference, any blood sugar below 70-80- depending on your dr- is considered low
Masterlist
Why is my heart pounding? Y/N wonders groggily as her eyes flutter open. She can tell something is wrong. Her skin feels clammy and her whole body is shaking. Y/N slowly sits up, looking around confused. Her brain feels foggy and she can’t think straight. Tear well in her eyes from the frustration and she put her face in her hands.
“Are you okay, baby?” Bucky asks, voice thick with sleep.
Y/N bursts out in tears and he shoots up in bed.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks, putting a hand on her cheek. Her skin is cold and sticky under his palm, “Steve, wake up,”
Y/N feels Steve sturs and sits up on her other side.
“Ladybug, what’s wrong?” Steve asks, rubbing her back.
“Don’t kn-know can’t think heart don’t know don’t fee-feel good,” Y/N sniffles.
“What’s your blood sugar?” Bucky asks, turning on the lamp.
Y/N squeezes her eyes shut, nuzzles her face into Steve’s chest in the bright light.
“Huh? Don’t know too dizzy,” she whimpers.
“It’s okay, princess, we’ll make it all better,” Steve soothes, wrapping his arm around her and Bucky grabs her phone off the nightstand.
Bucky goes straight to her Dexcom app.
“Shit,” he mumbles, pushing the blankets off and jumping out of bed.
“What? What is it?” Steve asks, tightening his grip about Y/N
“40.1 (2.2mmol/L) with double arrows down,” Bucky calls as he runs down the hall to the kitchen.
Bucky’s hands tremble as he grabs two bottles of orange juice from the fridge, as well as Y/N’s glucose tablets.
“Let’s manually check, baby,” Steve suggests, gently turning her so her back is against his chest. He grabs her diabetes bag off the nightstand and gets the glucometer (what checks how much sugar is in your blood) out. He quickly puts a strip in before getting the lancet (finger pricker) out. He quickly cleans her shaking index finger with an alcohol swab before pricking this finger.
“Oww Stevie,” Y/N whines.
“I know baby, I’m sorry,” he soothes, wiping the blood up with the strip. Steve lifts her still bleeding finger to his lips and sucks on it gently. 3…2…1…
“39.3, Buck!” Steve calls, releasing her finger with a pop.
“That bad?” Y/N slurs.
“Don’t close your eyes, Ladybug, Bucky will be right back,” Steve tells Y/N, gently tapping her cheek as her eyes start to close.
“Don’t li-like it,” she responds. Steve wipes the tears from her cheeks.
“I know, baby. Here’s Bucky!” Steve points out as Bucky plops down on the bed.
“Here you go, Ladybug,” Bucky voices, opening the orange juice and lifting it to her lips.
Y/N struggles to part her dry lips, still feeling confused. The sugary, tart juice is a shock to her system and she almost chokes on it.
“There you go, baby, think up,” Steve whispers, placing a hand on the back of her head.
“Take this too,” Bucky adds, opening the glucose tablets and getting two out. He gently parts her lips with his thumb and places them on her tongue before lifting the juice back up. She swallows them without hesitating.
“You’re doing so good, honey,” Steve soothes, “Keep drinking it,”
Y/N obeys, swallowing until the last drop is gone.
“Do you think that’s enough?” Steve whispers.
“I think? I don’t wanna overtreat and it goes high. Let’s just wait 15 minutes and recheck,”
“Bucky?”
“Yes, baby,” Bucky responds, putting a hand on his girlfriend’s leg.
“I’m sor…sorry I woke you up,” she stutters.
“It’s okay princess! I’m sorry you’re feeling icky. You’re gonna start feeling better soon, honey,”
Bucky places a hand on Y/N’s cheek and she leans into it.
“I love you,” she mumbles.
“I love you too,” Bucky smiles.
“And I love you,” Y/N repeats, flopping her head back on Steve’s shoulder.
“And I love you too, Ladybug,” Steve chuckles, “You’re our best girl. Always,”
Masterlist
Taglist:
@liidiaaag
@flourishandblotts-inc
@aagn360
@smromanoff
@butyoudontlookdisabled
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