Time flies when...

On Monday night I had a sweet spike before going to bed (no pun intended), 344.  I took a shot and went to sleep.  When my alarm went off yesterday morning, it felt as though no time had passed.  And even though I haven't woken up low recently, I knew right away that I was.  I couldn't even find my phone to turn off my alarm.  I knocked over all my books trying to turn on my light.  I hit my water bottle and almost let it crash right onto my pillow. I fumbled with my meter case, dropped the bottle of test strips, and finally tested.  It felt like 5 minutes had passed.  And then I turned off my alarm.  I was 54 so I knocked more things over trying to get my juice box, then stood up to turn on my light.  As I fumbled back to bed I knew there was no way that getting in the shower was a safe decision.  I went back into my bed, turned on the news and sat there for a moment.  I thought I didn't take anything, so I uncovered my lap and went to the refrigerator to get more juice.  I emptied the entire top shelf to get my juice (which was frozen), so I grabbed some of my roommates and gulped it down.  As I turned back towards the fridge from the sink, I couldn't figure out why all the beverages were on the counter, and then I realized that my juice had been frozen.  I started to put it all back together, and headed back to my room.  As I was walking in, my second alarm was going off.  Somehow, 25 minutes passed.

Physical + Everything else

Diabetes is a physical disease.  Your pancreas stops producing insulin and thus, you're diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.  Physical, right?  Yes.

But it's so much more.

I woke up yesterday morning in a cold sweat.  I knew I was low.  I grabbed my meter, tested, then popped some tabs in.  As I was gathering myself again, I realized that it shouldn't be this light out.  I look up, realize it's 8:23.  Um, I'm supposed to be at work at 7:30.  Grab my phone, surprised I didn't hear it ring.  I have a text that says, "are you okay?"  Not, where are you, you're supposed to be here, or anything of that nature.  I call my mother (the thought that I didn't wake up because of a severe low would scare her didn't cross my mind at this time).  I text Mom Genius back telling her that I had a severe low BS, but that I'd be there shortly.  (Still not thinking right since by this time the kids are on their way to school.) She calls me, she's at Girl Genius's school, so don't worry until I have to pick her up.  Will I be okay?  Yes,  Mom Genius, I will be okay.  Want to know why?  Because your first question was "are you okay?" I call my own mother back telling her that Mom Genius is great and wanted me to be okay and that she brought the kids to school, and yup, I can survive now. I'm half dressed already, I heat up my coffee, make some breakfast, then get in the shower.  The rational thought processes have left the building so-to-speak because the next thoughts that enter my brain are "I'm lonely."  I am not a lonely person.  I have the best family & friends in the world, I feel like I'm becoming a social butterfly (this is weirder to me than any of you reading this, I guarantee it), I love the people I work with, and I am an eternal optimist.  The thoughts going through my mind though, were, I wish I wasn't single.  If I wasn't single well then maybe I wouldn't have been alone this morning.  If I hadn't been alone this morning, then someone else would've heard my alarm and realized that I wasn't waking up.  Someone else probably would've felt my intense sweating as well and realized something was wrong when it started, not on the way back up again.

This physical disease can cripple me at any time, and today it decided to strike.  The long term effects of this strike weren't physical, they were psychological and those are the effects that are harder to let go of.

Dia-buddy

My longest dia-buddy came to visit me this weekend, and I couldn't be happier, especially since she loves to hate Boston because "it steals all my friends."  I picked her up on Friday and we talked about everything under the sun.  This included the boys in our lives, our jobs, our family, things that frustrate us, ski season and last but not least, our diabetes.  Our relationship is not based on diabetes, but diabetes definitely strengthens it.  It helps to have that person who gets it.  On Friday night we hung out my roommate, drinking wine, eating food and catching up with each other.  On Saturday, we went to see my old tennis team play here in Boston, then to Harpoon Oktoberfest (hence the visit on this particular weekend).  We met up with lots of friends, and had a great time, late into the night.  We arrive back at my apartment at the crack of 2AM, where I test and am 47.  I didn't feel this at all.  Was it dropping because I had been drinking and was giving myself small boluses?  Or was it because I was also low the night before at 2AM.  I don't know why I was low, but I had my juice box and I was good to go.  On Sunday, we woke up around 8, and my dia-buddy woke up low.  Saturday night she couldn't believe that one juice box can "cure" a low for me, so I go into the kitchen and get her a giant glass of juice.  I was consistently getting juice, tabs, soda, and even gel for her, and not until noon was she 99.  There was a lot of time spent watching movies, bundling in blankets, listening to music, and lots of talking.  I enjoy these moments of face-to-face with my dia-buddy, but I also feel terrible for her.  We've all been there before, but it's never easy.  The next time I am there though, I hope to have a dia-buddy with me, rather than a non dia-buddy because at least dia-buddies know the feeling.  When she wasn't low, we drove up to NH to finish our entirely-to-short weekend together.  

Bundled during a marathon low

A Way to Start the Day

From September 17, 2010

Fridays are one of my favorite days of the week, and not because Saturday & Sunday follow.  Fridays I get to go into work late because dad takes the kid to school.  Regular days of the week, the alarm goes off at 5:55.  Fridays, it goes off at 7:30.  This morning I rolled over at the crack of 8:55.  The immediate thought in my brain was “I must be low because I don’t even remember the alarm going off.”  And I was right.  I realize that waking up low is common, but it takes a lot out of me.  I wanted to try a new kind of juice too, and it tastes like vomit, so that certainly didn’t help.  My plan was to get up, go for a run, shower/coffee/Ellen, clean my room and other organizing things that need to happen in my apartment.  Let’s just say, when I rolled out of bed, Weather-Girl was making coffee, so I plopped down to watch Ellen, drank my coffee, and zombied my way through the morning.  Now whether this is related or not, I also have the worst headache I’ve had in quite a while.  It feels like a “high headache,”  but when you’re 66 then 105, that certainly can’t be.  I feel the need for a nap, and have all day, and my work day is just about to start at the crack of 1:36.  What have I done all day?  Well, that’s a good question.  All I can tell you is that low is not the way I like to start my day.