When You Aren't Looking.
The clock stared back at me. 5:22 am. I stared at the green, digital numbers for a few minutes. They stared back. 5:24 am now.
I reached over to the bedside table and pressed the spacebar on my phone - it told me the time was 5:28 am.
"That's not right. My clock was set against my phone. How are they different now?" I thought about this for a few more minutes. Chris was asleep on my right, his chest rising and falling with his even breaths. The little gray cat was curled up at the foot of the bed, but her ears were starting to tilt towards me.
Exhausted. I could just roll over and go back to sleep, but my hands reach out automatically towards the black zipper case on the bedside table. I unzip the case and my hands fumble to retrieve a strip from the bottle, then clumsily shoved it into the top of my meter.
"Meow." Abby called from the floor. A statement, from the cat who always seems to know when I'm tumbling down the well.
"I'm testing." I said to her. To the cat. I'm talking to the cat at 5:29 in the morning while I test my blood sugar. Even as the result came back at 44 mg/dl, I had to laugh at the ridiculousness.
But something about seeing that number made the symptoms of the low show themselves. Seeing that 44 made me notice the dampness on my forehead. I felt like I was about to burst into tears and into a fit of laughter at the same time. Chris was still asleep - shouldn't I wake him up and tell him I am so low?
No. Instead, I threw back the covers and made my legs move me towards the door. One step, two steps, a few more steps, get to the fridge, open the juice bottle, drink, close the fridge, skate back towards the bed, collapse back into bed, stare at the clock which is blinking 5:32 now.
"Hey. You okay?" Chris stirs towards me.
"Yup." Just lying on my back, waiting for the feeling of sinking through the mattresses to stop.
"Did you have juice?"
"I did. A lot. Grape juice." Details he doesn't need to know, but I just want to hear my voice and confirm I still have some control over what's going on.
Clock is now at 5:34 am. The sky outside the picture window is just starting to turn the dark blue-gray of the witching hour, and my lips are stained with grape juice.
Low blood sugars haven't been a part of my routine for several months now, and I credit the end of wedding stress, less aggressive bolusing, and the power of Dexcom. But last night, my last sensor came loose and I haven't received my new sensors yet. I had a 230 mg/dl before bed and I took a correction bolus. And for some reason, the bottom dropped out in the wee hours of the morning.
You can be prepared. You can plan. You can have a medical team and an emotionally supportive team and a basket full of technology that can help you manage your diabetes, but a high or a low can still come and grab you when you aren't looking.
Tricky little suckers.