Saturday Night.

It was Saturday, about 6:00 p.m.

My BGs had been running high all day. It was time for dinner, and since I try to pre-bolus whenever possible, I washed my hands (like I almost always do), did my pre-dinner check, and saw that I was 138 mg/dL.

I was just making a sandwich and eating a tomato for dinner… no big deal, except that bread seems to spike my post-prandial numbers a bit. So I bolused based on that 138 number and continued watching the L.A. Dodgers and Pittsburgh Pirates game on TV.

Pre-bolusing being what it is, I had expected to wait 15-20 minutes before eating. About ten minutes after my bolus, I felt what I thought was a sign that I was low: A feeling of shakiness, sort of like I was sinking, and a suddenly overwhelming hunger.

But I had been high all day. I was 138 mg/dL just ten minutes before, right? In the next five minutes, the following occurred:

– I went back into the kitchen to test again. The result: 48 mg/dL.

– I grabbed the juice bottle from the refrigerator and, carefully, a glass from the cabinet. Somehow, I got the glass and the juice on the counter just before I slunked down on the kitchen floor.

– Now I’m trying to (again, carefully) get the glass and juice off of the counter and onto the floor next to me so I could drink it. I didn’t know if I could get back up again until I could get my BG back up again.

– After trying for what seemed like a long time, but really wasn’t, I was no closer to getting the glass or the juice off the counter, but I had managed to lay flat on my back, feeling very sleepy, if that makes sense.

– Somehow, something inside me made me realize that I needed to get up to the counter to get my juice. I had no other choice. Again, it seemed to take a long time to stand up, but it wasn’t a long time after all.

I finally got my juice, and within 15 more minutes, I had eaten my sandwich and was feeling almost normal again. Except for the post-low hangover that comes with an episode like this. And it was significant.

Immediately after, I called The Great Spousal Unit, who was away, and let her know what happened and that I was okay.

Then I took to Facebook and recounted what happened. I also replied to some of the replies I received, and posted a little more too. I was so grateful to have people who understand help me feel better after an awful experience like that. Still, I generally don’t spend my Saturday night hanging out on Facebook, and that made me ask a few questions.

Was I really trying hard to connect after almost being permanently disconnected? Was I trying to keep a lifeline (so to speak) open in case of another low? Was I just trying to show how strong I am and that I was okay and no one should worry about me because I’m tough as nails?

Maybe it was a combination of some of those things. Plus this:

When you nearly lose your life (because, for worse or for worse, hypoglycemia is a near-death experience), you want to connect with the special people in your life and forget about anything else that doesn’t really matter.

Hypoglycemia sucks. Diabetes sucks.

As a person with diabetes, I am in a unique position to let the rest of the world know that we need the best accuracy possible from our glucose meters. We need Medicare coverage for seniors who simply must keep their continuous glucose monitor technology. We need artificial pancreas technology that will help read our glucose levels and adjust pump settings automatically based on reliable algorithms designed with patient safety as its first priority.

And we all need to have people to reach out to, to make us feel less alone when we’re at our most vulnerable. God bless those who don’t have anyone to turn to.

If you have no one to turn to when diabetes wrecks your evening, I encourage you to find the Diabetes Online Community. Search the #DOC hashtag on Twitter. Do a Google search for diabetes blogs. Or send me an e-mail. Don’t be alone.
 

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Comments

  • Colleen  On August 10, 2015 at 4:50 pm

    Low? By myself? First place I’d go is FB – well, right after the juice!

    Liked by 1 person

  • Frank  On August 11, 2015 at 5:36 am

    A very confronting story, but glad that you got through it and that you found support from your wife and from the DOC. It’s kind of great that we can be there for each other through the DOC when we need it 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  • Mike Hoskins (@MHoskins2179)  On August 14, 2015 at 1:02 am

    Geez… sorry to hear this happened, but glad you made it through it. And definitely glad that FB was there as a resource to connect. I cringed when reading that part about it “taking longer to stand up,” because I’ve been there many times myself. Scary stuff. Think you’re spot on in saying how much this can mean, to just know there are others on the receiving end of the online universe that can be with us in these scary times, in the post-moments, and just help calm us down and reassure.

    Liked by 1 person

  • Kelley  On August 25, 2015 at 9:16 am

    Eeek, do you think the 138 was wrong? Or did you just drop incredibly fast? 40s SUCK and so does diabetes!

    Liked by 1 person

    • StephenS  On August 26, 2015 at 8:59 am

      Kelley, I think the 138 was wrong. It happens sometimes. I can’t explain why I’d drop that much that fast.

      Like

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