If you have ever had a hypoglycemic episode, you might feel kinda like the monster from Frozen. Seriously, this is me with low blood sugar. Ask my sister.
Since my diagnosis seven months ago, I've been able to keep my blood sugars pretty stable with the occasional high after special occasions like Thanksgiving or my birthday party. I take two units of Lantus in the morning and two units at night. I only take Novolog if I'm over 200 before eating- which has been rare as I've tried to stick to a very high protein/high fat/low carb diet (less than 100 grams a day). Couple that with consistent exercise, and I've been able to maintain an average of 4-8 units of insulin per day and last time I went in, my A1C was 6.3. Not bad, not bad at all.
Until last night. I had some pita bread with my chicken and squash for dinner and three hours later, I was at 238. The last two times I've taken Novolog (after Thanksgiving dinner being one), NOTHING happened. Four hours later, I was still really high and had to take more. So I took two units, felt fine, and went to sleep. I woke up at 12:30am completely soaked in sweat. I scrambled to find my glasses and my meter (turns out being blind and diabetic isn't such a great combo during nighttime hypo moments) and checked my sugar. As I was waiting patiently for the five second (or lifetime) delay, I felt myself getting worse by the second. Then the number popped up on the screen. 48.
I have never been lower than 68 since I started testing. Those lows were usually exercise induced and I was prepared for them. But 48?! I couldn't believe it. So, like any newly diagnosed diabetic, I binged on ghirardelli dark & sea salt caramel chocolate squares. After the first one, I didn't feel any better. So I ate another. And another. And then I looked at the nutrition and saw that three squares was only 23 grams of carbs. So I had one more. And then I ate some pita bread. I was desperate to get my blood sugar back up and had no idea how much I needed to feel better.
When you're diagnosed with diabetes, they don't tell you how much sugar you actually need to correct a low. They should give you some kind of timeline, like eat a piece of chocolate and test 15 minutes later, and then if you're still low eat another. And maybe some doctors do tell you this- mine didn't. On top of that, you're in complete freak out mode that you're going to go into a diabetic coma and have to call the paramedics and the only thing you can think about is that number on the screen going up- and FAST.
Needless to say, I woke up this morning worse than I started last night. 282. I decided I would take two more units to level off and then have a normal (ha!) day. Why I decided to take two more units is beyond me- I guess I thought that I was higher than I was the night before and I was remembering how the Novolog doesn't always seem to work. An hour later I was at 108, which was perfect. Made myself some eggs and coffee and packed up my bag for work. Twenty minutes later, I was dripping in sweat once again. Shaking and blacking in and out. Tears were streaming down my cheeks as I pricked my finger and struggled to align the drop of blood with the testing strip. Nothing is more frustrating than not being able to function when you know you have to in order to save your own life. (I apologize for the dramatics, but it's true!)
5. 4. 3. 2. 1. A new number popped up. 44. This time, remembering how I screwed myself last night and not wanting to soar high again, I ate one Clif shot block (which I use for long distance running training) and waited 15 minutes. By the way, those 15 minutes move about as quickly or as slowly as molasses. Or quicksand. Or a goddamn snail trying to cross the road. I'm over here, face literally dripping sweat beads onto my lap, hands shaking, shirt soaked through once again and I have to wait 15 minutes. 77. So I eat another one. My panic turns to a relief that leaves me in tears; tears of frustration, tears of gratitude that the worst is over, and terrified tears. Lows are scary. And, I've spent the entire day feeling like I have the flu, minus the whole fever/nausea thing.
This is the reality of living with type one diabetes. I don't tell you all of this because I want you to feel bad for me. I don't feel bad for me. I tell you this so you understand that there are repercussions for every single thing I eat. It's just a small piece of cake right? Just one piece of pizza? Just take some insulin with it and you'll be fine, right? Too much insulin or a wrong guess on how much I should take could kill me.
After this year's Thanksgiving dinner where I ate the same foods as my sister (AND I even said no to my own garlic mashed potatoes) my blood sugar was 335 and hers was 108. The point is this: A diabetic doesn't get days off. You don't get to splurge on holiday meals without feeling it in one way or another later on. And yes, the doctors tell you that you can eat whatever you want as long as you take insulin for it and to an extent, I believe that to be true. But what happens when insulin doesn't work one time and the next time you take it, you bottom out and either end up in tears or in the hospital? I feel like a guinea pig when it comes to treatment. Diabetes is unpredictable, misunderstood, and insulin injections paint your stomach with bruises bigger than quarters.
I can positively say that I am now healthier because of diabetes- but it hasn't been an easy road. I can only speak for myself but I think as a diabetic, we just want people to understand that it's never just one piece of cake. And insulin isn't the answer to all of our problems.
It's all one big learning curve, and I'm determined to not be defined by diabetes. I still make hot cocoa on cold, rainy nights and I still bring cookies to share at work. I still eat pizza and I'll probably never give up egg nog (holidays on the brain to blame for that one). Life is too short to be controlled by a number and it's too beautiful to live without some indulgent experiences. In fact, our experiences are what makes our lives so beautiful.
So cheers to YOU and living the best life you can every single moment. Cheers to not beating yourself up over a bad choice or a bad day, but to understanding that we are all just painting our own pictures with our own colors.
Lastly, thank you to my sister who sat by my side this morning to make sure I was ok and in turn, forgot her coffee on her dresser when she left for work. Love you Momo!
Be kind, love someone today and Happy Holidays!
xo
T
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