If you have found this blog, saying Welcome does not really seem appropriate. I know you wish you weren't surfing the internet for diabetes. I felt the same.
A big part of me wishes I were not writing about diabetes, nor did I anticipate to become so opinionated or informed on the subject, but it happened. In 2010, my son was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes.
It wasn't really part of the plan… Correction - it was not part of the plan, but it happened. It is not always easy, but I think we are all doing okay, and I hope we continue to do so.
Why the Middle East? I happen to live in Dubai. I don't think that living in the Middle East makes mine or my son's diabetic experience any more unique or challenging than it does elsewhere in the developed world.
I hope you stick around, or read something you like. Feel free to comment and join the conversation, subscribe or follow this blog by liking the Facebook page Diapoint.
Please note: This blog does not give medical advice. I am opinionated, and I share my experiences, but the first rule of diabetes is to follow up with your doctor and/or nurse educator about your care, diagnosis or medication. If you do not have a medical practitioner that is helping you find your way through this crazy world, then do not give up until you find the right one.
Monday, May 30, 2016
My Peak Into Hypoglycemia
I went to the gym, and toward the end of the class I was taking, I suddenly felt incredibly hungry. I have not eaten beef for over 20 years now, and could almost be classified as a vegetarian, but the only thing I could think about through the last few minutes of trying to strategically balance myself on an exercise ball was barbecue brisket!
I was sweating from the workout, but I had that feeling of a cold sweat coming on. Could this be what my son feels when he is having a low, I wondered? Was I really low? Was I just hungry? Exercise usually does not have me running out the door in a manic quest for Texas barbecue!
Fortunately, I was in my complex, so in a matter of seconds, I returned home eager to ask my son to check my blood sugar because I felt low. I told him "I feel low", which is what he often says to me when he has a low.
I thought he was eagerly running off to get the glucometer, but instead he was eager to share with me what he was writing while I was away. It was incredibly awesome, but before I grabbed a juice, I really wanted him to check me to see if I was in fact low. I thought that reversing the roles somehow might make him feel better about diabetes, or not so alone.
I then followed him to his room thinking the glucometer was there. I still wanted a side of beef. Meanwhile, my husband is trying to tell me something, and my son is playing with some tape he wants to put over his mouth. Did I mention I needed a double brisket meal with potato salad and jalapeño corn bread?!
Where is the damn glucometer?!!!
Finally, it arrives. I asked my son to check my finger, but he was busy with his tape project. So I change the lancet and checked my own finger. The reading was 69. Wow! I suspected I would be a bit low as I did not really snack throughout the day as I usually do, and I had a small lunch, but wow. I really was experiencing a low.
Juice, I need juice. Off my son went running through the house trying to communicate with his mouth taped shut that I was low and I needed juice. Not sure how that was going to work as no one would expect me to be the one with the low. I reinforced the mumbled message by requesting a low carb juice from the opposite end of the kitchen.
My son brought me the juice and ran off just as I realized the straw was not in the hole. What? No straw? I was shaking a bit, and it was one of those juice bags, not a box, so I was skeptical that I could do this gracefully. I took the straw... no, I ripped the straw off the juice bag and tried to put it into the ready made hole. I missed!
After a few more attempts, I stabbed it so well that I also punctured the back of the juice bag. The straw never went in! And now I had a juice fountain in my hallway. I started sucking the juice out of the back hole of the bag, but it was still leaking out of the front! I was mostly sucking air from the back of the bag! Clean up on aisle six!
Finally, enough juice spilled onto the floor to allow me to insert the straw into the bag and finish what was left. Enter mop.
The juice seemed to helped a bit. That, or I felt so accomplished that I stabbed a juice bag with a straw, I went to shower - after which I sat down to eat immediately. I still felt like I was starving, but I must have been on my way to a normal blood sugar range as I no longer wanted to devour an entire animal. Crisis adverted.
I do not know what this all means, and I am not alarmed by a lower than normal blood sugar. It could be a fluke, or not. I'll do some checks and watch it. I'm putting it down to doing intense exercise on a day when the timing of my meals did not serve what I needed my body to do.
I am pleased that I had this mild low and I got to experience something that my son deals with every day. It was incredibly annoying and challenging. First because I could not finish my workout as I would have liked to, and I can see how as one goes lower, it can get frightening, quickly. The frustration and isolation of people ignoring you or not understanding the severity of your needs must be overwhelming at times.
I have no real message here. Just a random experience. I wish it were me instead. I am not sure I could handle it as gracefully as he does. And I am pretty sure that I have the potential to physically harm someone in a quest for good Texas barbecue. This could go horribly wrong considering there isn't really any here.