The Mystery of the Invisible Breakfast

This morning’s adventure: catching a 7-year-old in a lie I wish wasn’t a big deal… but it kind of is when you have to micromanage your own pancreas.

Rohan swears up and down that he didn’t eat anything.

Totally empty stomach.

Didn’t touch a thing.

Cross-his-heart, pinky promise, scout’s honor.

Except… his blood sugar is spiking like he just had pancakes dipped in maple syrup and sprinkled with gummy bears. So unless air has carbs now, he definitely ate something.

And he didn’t dose himself either. That’s the scariest part. He didn’t eat and sneak insulin, he just ate. And then lied about it. No insulin. No heads-up. Just a quiet spike and a very insistent “I didn’t eat!”

We don’t limit his food. With his ARFID and Type 1 diabetes, we’ve worked really hard to make sure food doesn’t become a source of shame or fear. He can have what he wants (within reason), he just has to tell us so we can dose properly.

I know lying is normal. I know this is a kid thing. But it’s hard when a lie could send him into a medical crisis. It’s not about the cookie or the cereal or whatever mystery snack he swiped, it’s about trust and safety and the invisible balancing act of food, fear, and insulin.

So now I’m riding the blood sugar rollercoaster and the emotional one.

Just another Friday in the trenches.