When the Dexcom sensor goes kaput, I usually take a day or two off before slapping a new one on. Sometimes I want to let the site heal a bit and reuse the same location, and other times I just want a quick break before committing to it again for another six days or so.
Most often, these "days off" fall on the weekends. I usually put a new sensor in on Sunday nights or Monday mornings before work and wear it straight through to Saturday morning. At work, at the gym, and throughout the night, that sucker BEEEEEEEP!s when I'm high or when I'm trending low, and I react accordingly. I don't test as often on these days - maybe five times a day versus my pre-Dexcom 11-15 times - but I feel like I have a good handle on things, for the most part.
So why is it that, on weekends, my blood sugars fall to pieces?
I can't figure it out.
And then again, I sort of can. Over the last month or so, I've become like a diabetes rebel on weekends. I go to bed at two or three in the morning. I sleep until 11 am. I eat French Toast (with sugar-free syrup, but still - holy carbs) on Saturdays and my intake of coffee is as constant as insulin. I skip the gym and watch tv and generally become a lazy bum.
And, of course, this all goes down when I'm sensor-free.
This particular weekend, I had a glorious 374 mg/dl and a sneaky 38 mg/dl. We went to the movies on Sunday afternoon to see Valkyrie and I hadn't tested recently before heading into the movie. During the course of the film, I felt extremely sleepy and felt my eyelids becoming heavy at times. After we drove home, I tested and saw a grim 374 mg/dl staring back at me.
Fantastic. "I felt this one, yet I still didn't test. What the hell is wrong with me? I'm pissed - it's like I start sliding down that slope and it all goes amuck."
"Did you bolus?" Chris asked.
"Yeah, I just did. I just feel stupid."
"You'll come down. It's okay."
A few hours later, after hanging out at the house, I tested arbitrarily. I felt completely fine - no headache, no sweaty forehead, no shakiness. I wasn't pale, my eyes weren't heavy-lidded, and I didn't feel lightheaded at all. Yet a 38 mg/dl was the result that greeted me this round, and I didn't feel even a glimpse of a symptom.
Tested again and confirmed: 34 mg/dl. Definitely low.
I drank juice, I sat on the couch, and I waited patiently (or at least patiently for me, which meant I didn't throw anything). And as I waited for my blood sugar to start coming up, the symptoms came slamming into me. I was dizzy, to the point where I felt unable to stand up. Chris came to talk to me and I couldn't string a sentence together, only able to communicate in short bursts. "Low. Yes, drank juice. Waiting. Love you, too."
From 374 to 38 - a drop of over 330 points. This doesn't feel good and it isn't healthy for my body, yet it happens sometimes. Even when I'm paying attention and "following the rules," there's still something I've missed. I didn't test often enough. I neglected to account for some of the food I ate. I took the weekend off from the Dexcom. I'm battling myself. It's a diabetes Fight Club. (The first rule is to not blog about fight club, but I've already blown it.)
I'm feeling frustrated these days and I'm not sure where to go from here. But at least with this kind of rut, I can flip things towards "change" at any moment. All ... I ... need ... to ... do ... is hit the switch.