Thursday, February 9, 2012

Sippy Cups Bounce Funny

Wednesday 8 February, 2012

02:27 - I'm in bed sleeping, I think, and my feet feel funny. My hands and fingers are tingling too and suddenly my body is washed over with a hot flash. It feels kind of like a niacin rush if you've ever experienced that. It's the epinephrine (or adrenalin) and the cortisol going to work. Suddenly I'm wide awake and sitting up on the edge of the bed. I find my slippers to put them on, dropping one while doing so. This one won't go on upside down. Damn. I try again. Success.

I head down stairs and I can tell I'm leaning a little too much to the left and I'm hoping that I hit all the steps. My head feels like it's only slightly connected to my body and my eyes feel like they're only slightly connected to my head. My hands are shaky as I start to sweat and I know I'm having a hypoglycemic low. My mind is fumbling through the house mentally trying to figure out what I can get to put about 15 to 20 grams of carbs back in my system. I know I'm out of granola bars and the creme sandwich cookies didn't really measure up last time. I can't quite think normal straight, only low straight, but I know I've got to get to my blood monitor and see where my blood glucose is at.

Snick. Beep. 46 mg/dL. Low. Generally, the medically accepted definition of hypoglycemia is a serum glucose level (the amount of sugar or glucose in your blood) below 70 mg/dL. So that's dangerously low actually and I've got to find 25 grams of carbs right now. I look in the pantry and remember that there are no 18 grams of carbs granola bars left. I see the cookies and decide to pass. I stumble around and get to the fridge and really don't know or can't remember what I'm hoping to find there.

I don't have a can of orange juice and right now I'm wishing like crazy that I did. I think about trying to get down to my office and find an energy gel or two but I don't know if I can make it down the stairs to the basement. I can almost watch my mind trying to calculate how much ketchup I would have to squizzle down to get 25 grams of carbs back in my blood stream. I can't find any apple juice and desperation is starting to creep in. Ah milk. Got milk? Milk is just like fatty sugar water laced with a little protein and infused with vitamin D. Does a body good. I grab the milk and in my first real lucid moment since I got out of bed, I notice the sugar free chocolate syrup on the shelf and grab it too.

I fumble around with a sippy cup until I realize it's a sippy cup and grab a real cup out of the cabinet. Sippy cups bounce funny. I'll start with 1 cup of milk. 16 grams of carbs. I squirt in my 2 Tbsp of sugar free chocolate syrup getting it all over the side of the cup and my thumb and on the counter. That is 4 grams of carbs. I think. I can't find my whisk. I'm looking all over the counter but I can't find my whisk. Where the heck is my whisk? I look in the dish drainer, by the toaster oven, by the coffee maker, in the sink, in the dishwasher and at last think to look in the utensil drawer. Bingo. I bumble over and sit down at the dining room table and I drink my chocolate milk.

02:38 - I look at the clock, because I need about 15 minutes to pass so I can check my blood glucose again. My chocolate milk is gone in about 5 sips. It is surprisingly very very good. I can't even remember the last time I actually drank milk. When you have diabetes, fatty sugar water laced with a little protein and infused with vitamin D is one of the worst possible drinks to drink. It sure tasted good though. I try to restrain myself and practice moderation, but instead I give up quickly and pour myself another 1/2 cup of milk and add 1 Tbsp of chocolate syrup, this time getting it in the cup.

I'm starting to get some coordination back. Something as simple as stirring up a chocolate milk isn't as difficult as it was a few minutes ago and I sip my seconds a lot more slowly this time. My hands are still shaky and I'm getting cold and starting to shiver as the sheen of sweat starts to evaporate off my upper body as I sit and watch the clock. I think about adding a mini Reece's Peanut Butter Cup to my attack on this hypoglycemic low. Can't be more than 8 grams of carbs in one of those little tiny pieces of candy right? It's a mini and besides, peanut butter is good for me. I surrender to the candy immediately.

02:50 - Snick. Beep. 72 mg/dL. Back going up. Better now. Time to get back to sleep. I head back upstairs to get back in bed. I feel normal as far as normal goes except my feet are itching and tingling like they always do when my blood glucose is dropping quickly. My serum glucose isn't dropping quickly anymore, in fact it's doing the opposite, but the itchy tingling in my feet is a leftover early warning system that got here early and is staying here late this time.

As I quietly head back upstairs I know two things for sure. I wish my wife would have woke up to help me because I like her reassuring presence and she makes me feel safe when she is taking care of me and I know that I over did it. I didn't eat less. I know that I over corrected. I should have held off on the seconds and the candy. I know I should have but I didn't. I know I'm going to be going back to sleep and sleeping through the rest of the morning with a serum glucose level higher than it should be. How nice would it be to get it just right just one time?

I'm going to have a "no bad number" in the morning instead of a good number. I should have ate less. A little plus and little. Right? I wish it wasn't going to be the case, but I'd rather sleep with blood glucose too high than too low. Too high might kill me, but it's going to kill me later. Or kill me sooner but later on in life. Too low might kill me now. Right now. Okay I accept the trade-off as I vow to practice more restraint next time. To eat less next time. To do a better job next time. To not be so scared next time. I know there will be a next time. I know it will happen again. I crawl back in bed next to my wife and hold her. I feel safe again and I quietly fall back to sleep.

No comments:

Post a Comment