Self-Medicating

Ran errands today with Jenn, and did our once-every-two-months-or-so Costco run. My blood had been running high at lunch, so I wasn't very concerned about it. I walked up our three flights of stairs three times, and for the first time in months, the idea of slogging up them didn't make me tired.

I grabbed a light bulb and the step ladder and went to my room to change the light bulb in my closet. I got everything ready and realized I felt a little dizzy. One of the things the big ADA book harps on about is that anytime you feel off, you need to check your blood right away. There's no "just give me five minutes" wiggle room. And I sure as hell wasn't going to be an idiot and risk falling off the step ladder.

I checked my blood, and sure enough, I was at 62. I ate three graham crackers and lay in bed and read for a few minutes until I felt better, then got up and changed the light bulb. I went back to reading.

Jenn came in with a pile of books to join me, and we sat around reading for awhile.

I still felt like crap. I started sweating and got shaky, and saw those little bits of darkness at the edges of my eyes.

I checked my blood again.

I'd dipped to 45.

WTF??

Drank some orange juice, ate three more graham crackers and lay prone on the bed again. I had Jenn give me one of the Lifesavers (oh, that's ironic) candies that I now keep on my desk. Ate that too, and continued lying in bed. It took another 15 minutes or so before my heart stopped racing.

Best I could figure, all the wandering around Costco and the walking up and down the stairs and the push-back of dinner by an hour (I had things to do!) threw me off, and my sugar level plummeted. The graham crackers weren't working fast enough. It's orange juice all the way, next time.

I'll be happy to start my new, lower dose of the Lantus insulin tomorrow morning. I think that's going to clear up a number of these hypoglycemic episodes.

What a weird disease.