I was on a plane, high above the clouds, looking down onto the world below me where everything looks too small and too distant to be affected by a number. Cruising altitude.
I felt his hand on my shoulder, shaking me a little bit.
"Kerri. Kerri, wake up. You're really sweaty. Wake up."
Was it the captain speaking? No, it was my fiance. I was half-draped off the edge of the bed, pulling the long-sleeved blue t-shirt away from my body. The space above my collarbone was damp. My hands went to it, blotting it with my sleeve.
"I'm awake." I could hear my own voice but it sounded like it was coming from the end of a long tube of Christmas wrapping paper. "I'm going to test."
I unzipped the meter case, lanced the end of my finger, and watched as "39 mg/dl - do you need a snack?" popped up on the screen.
"Oh," Everything was nonchalant and dreamy. "I'm 39."
Chris sprang from the bed and returned in just a few seconds with a glass of grape juice.
I drank it down in a few gulps, being careful not to let any spill out. "I'm pretty low. I don't feel that low." The words sounded so matter-of-fact, like we were discussing the thread count of our sheets.
"Did the thing go off?" He motioned to the CGM as he rescued the empty glass from my unsteady hands. I reached down for my pump and clicked a few buttons.
"No. It says I'm 74 mg/dl. But it's showing this crazy sharp dip - see, right there? - so it knows I'm dropping."
"Feeling better yet?"
"Not yet. I changed my site before we went out tonight. That always happens - I change my site, I end up higher, and the correction bolus crashes me down so hard." This conversation is happening as my blood sugar hovers around 40 mg/dl. Aren't people supposed to be on the cusp of a coma or something at this point? How is my brain busy explaining the mechanics of this crisis? Where is the SkyMall catalog? I'm still mid-flight on this low.
I clicked off the lamp and we both settled back into bed. As my blood sugar rose, I felt increasingly worse, shivering and cloudy-mouthed, my mind racing and my hands clenching against threats unseen. I felt like I was landing now. But the closer I came to landing on the safety of the ground, the more terrifying it became until the landing gear in my mind touched down and I was okay. Safe at 130 mg/dl.
The alarm went off this morning - my blood sugar was 119 mg/dl. I collected my baggage from the night before and rubbed the sleep from my eyes.
Today, I'm feeling a bit jet-lagged.