Blog Archives
#DBlogWeek ’13 – Day 3 – How I met your mother
(Or, more accurately: How my mother met your mother)
It’s Diabetes Blog Week again! For the next five days, Karen , author of Bitter-Sweet diabetes, will tell me what to write about. (She did this last year, too). Today, she wants me to write about a memorable diabetes day. I don’t know if this one is my MOST memorable, especially since the most significant diabetes-events tend to be the ones where I’m in no capacity to remember things, but here goes…
This happened over ten years ago. Add old-age to hospital-grade hypoglycemia, and memories get hazy, but I’ll do my best.
Back then, I was living alone in a second floor apartment in the suburbs of Philadelphia, PA. I was dating a girl who lived on the outskirts of Queens, NY. Because of the distance between us, we only saw each other on weekends – and the “dates” usually included an overnight stay.
Don’t judge.
The rocky reality of hypoglycemia
This vlog (video-log) could have just as easily been titled “A Consequence of Hypoglycemia”, but alas, that name was already taken. So I’ll just go with the “Rocky Reality…” name.
(subtitle: “Gonna Cry Now”)
Running time 3 minutes
What I have always wanted to say to my teacher
This is a twist on Wednesday’s post on Arden’s Day, where Scott B. asks “What have you always wanted to say to your child’s teacher”.
I don’t have a response to that question, but I do have something to say from a different perspective –
Sometime between May of 1981 (when I was diagnosed) and June of 1983 (when I moved on to another school), there is a vivid image burned in my mind. One of the Phys Ed teachers at Mill Lake School (we’ll call her Ms. S) was on-duty to watch the kids outside during recess. I remember the time when she was running from the playground to the school cradling my limp, semi-unresponsive body in her arms. I don’t remember collapsing to the ground with a low blood sugar before she picked me up, nor do I remember the school nurse squirting glucose gel in my mouth once we got inside of the building. But I do remember that sprint across the blacktop as she looked at me with that very concerned look on her face.
I suspect that the image remains in her mind as well, even thirty years later.
So Ms. S, wherever you are, I’d like to pass along the message that I remember that moment, that I’m doing fine, and that I’m sorry to have scared you. And Thank You.
Another nighttime low? or no?
I’m stumped.
Last night, shortly after 1:00 am, I woke up to the sound of my baby son crying hysterically. (A “Low Predicted” CGM alert at 12:30 and a “Low” alert at 12:45 did not. Have I mentioned my expertise in silencing alerts in my sleep before?)
Lifting him out of his crib and laying him on the changing table were no challenge for me. Removing a wet diaper was no challenge for me.
Then the feeling set in. I started sweating. Shaking. Becoming disoriented. Nausea was starting to set in. This wasn’t the “Regular-Low”, this was the “Oh-Crap-Really-Bad-Low” feeling. A quick glance at my pump/CGM and I see a sensor glucose of 65 mg/dl. Oh shit, I thought. If the sensor’s reporting 65, I’m probably more like 35. I know how this thing behaves!
