Diabetic Care and Service Dogs
————————————
Warnings: Alex Keller (he needs one), reader is diabetic, mention of symptoms
Reader: went to university, is able bodied
A/N at end
————————————————
———————————————
You were born with Type 1 diabetes. Thankfully your parents and doctor caught it early enough that it didn’t cause any real issues and your parents figured out your treatment quickly. They became very proficient at checking a squirming baby’s blood sugars and administering insulin no matter how much you kicked and screamed.
As you got older it became easier. You were able to recognize the changes in your body and manage your blood sugar levels before you could crash or go way too high. That isn’t to say that you never had issues with it. You had a habit of being so wrapped up in whatever you were doing that you wouldn’t notice the signs of your blood sugars being too high or low. Where you don’t notice the trembling in your hands until your heart is racing and you feel faint.
When you were younger it was easier. Your parents and teachers would notice before you did and would gently remind you to check your blood sugars and handle it. Even in university it was easier. You made sure your roommate, friends, and professors were all aware so you always had someone nearby who was vigilant enough to notice when you would suddenly be fatigued or your responses came slower.
After you graduated things got a lot harder. Without someone to remind you of your diabetes you struggled to stay on top of it. At first you tried things like insulin pumps and timers but you would forget to change out your pump and would unconsciously silence your timers without actually processing that they were going off. You ended up in the hospital a few too many times.
Eventually a nurse that now considered you a regular - you assumed was probably tired of seeing you - suggested that you get a service dog. Your multiple hospital visits would paint a picture of your diabetes being severe enough for insurance to cover most, if not all, of the costs. So you did. You got a German Shepherd who you named Hecate.
Having a service dog helped immensely. She was an alarm you couldn’t silence, a warning sign that was impossible to ignore. You brought her everywhere, but you will forever be grateful that you brought her to the appointment that led you to meeting Alex Keller.
The waiting room of the doctor’s office was full so you had Freya laying under your chair. Alex sat next to you and asked very respectful questions about your service dog and you asked him about what brought him to the doctors. He learned about your diabetes and your habit of accidentally ignoring your health. You learned that he retired from the CIA after losing his leg, that he could have kept going but decided that his leg was a sign that it was time to do something else.
You hit it off, exchanged numbers, and the rest is history. You dated, fell in love, moved in together. He learned to help you with your diabetes and you learned how to help with his leg. He never got mad when you would forget about your diabetes, you would hold him and play with his hair when he got phantom pains. You understood each other better than anyone else ever could. Maybe that is why you can’t imagine a future without him.
You and Alex set aside a day every week just to spend with each other. Today is one of those days. You’ve spent hours walking around downtown, going through shops and cafes, and enjoying each other’s presence. He holds your hand while Hecate’s leash is in the other, you can’t conceive a more perfect day. In one of the stores Hecate suddenly alerted, sitting down and pressing her nose against your leg. Alex, ever the perfect boyfriend, immediately starts digging through his bag that holds everything from your glucometer and insulin to emergency juice boxes and snacks.
“How is it? High? Low?” Alex asks after you check your blood sugar, ready to help you handle it in any way he can.
“Mmh it’s low.” You murmur, suddenly feeling the symptoms of low blood sugar that you hadn’t yet noticed now that you’ve been made aware of it. You grip Hecate’s leash tighter and rest your other hand on Alex’s forearm to help support yourself. Alex - somehow always knowing exactly what you need before you can say it - hands you one of your emergency juice boxes that he’s already opened, and wraps an arm around your waist. You lean into him heavily as you sip the juice box.
“Let’s go find somewhere to sit while that juice works its magic.”
“Sounds good to me.” You agree, following Alex as he steers you out of the store and to a nearby bench. You’re pretty sure it’s a bus stop but a bench is a bench.
Hecate situated herself at your feet, Alex is pressed against your side with his arm still wrapped around you. Sure, you don’t feel great right now but you also wouldn’t have it any other way. You absolutely adore your life, even if it isn’t always easy.
—————————————————
A/N: I’m aware that I kinda fell off with kinktober, I apologize. October is midterm season and I swear my profs are trying to get me to drop out. So here’s a kinda mid fic as an apology.