Drink the Juice.
Every person with diabetes experiences low blood sugars differently. There's that line in Fight Club: "You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake," but in the case of low blood sugars, they are like snowflakes. Or fingerprints. You can read the list of hypoglycemic symptoms backwards and forwards, but if you have diabetes or love someone who does, you know there's always that rogue one.
"Dizziness? Check. Shakiness? Check. Wait ... they don't have 'numb tongue' listed on here ..."
A few days ago, my family and I were in Los Angeles for a photo shoot for a diabetes-related project. (Details to be shared when I can, but since I can't find the non-disclosure agreement, I'm erring on the side of shhhhh.) As someone who prefers to be behind the camera, and not in front of it, the whole "make up and hair" experience was a first for me.
"Just sit in this chair and we'll start with your hair," the very nice stylist said, easing me into one of those black, swiveling chairs.
"And Birdy will be here in the room with me, so I can spy on her?" That was the plan, anyway. Since Chris was in meetings while BirdZone and I were doing the diabetes thing, there was someone who offered to help bird-watch while I was being all done up.
"Yes. She'll either be in here with us or out there with [name]. She's in good hands."
So they set to work on me, with gigantic rollers and make up sponges and tubes of things that leave me clueless. And as we're talking and exchanging our diabetes stories, someone asks me if the toddler just outside the room is mine.
"Yes, that's my daughter." I feel myself smiling, even though the make up lady asked me to keep my face still for a few minutes.
"It's good to see a happy mom and a happy baby. Steel Magnolias is one of my favorite movies, but not when it comes to thinking about my daughter and her future children."
"I know, right? I love, love that movie ... except for the whole diabetes part."
Time passed and my hair grew in volume. And I heard the Dexcom BEEEEEEEP!ing from my purse on the floor.
"Would you mind handing me that blue receiver thing in my purse?" I asked the girl who was arranging her work station for the next person. And two quick clicks showed me at 54 mg/dL with two arrows down.
The irony was too much. Did the mere mention of Steel Magnolias make my blood sugar plummet while having rollers set in my hair? I grabbed a bottle of juice from my purse and drew a few long sips. The make up girl blotted my forehead with a make up sponge.
"Is it a little warm in here? You're sweating a little. Do you need anything?"
I knew Birdy was in capable hands, and I knew the juice would hit my system in a few minutes. I just wanted to sit tight and let the sugar magic happen. After a beat, I started to feel a little better. And once the Dexcom showed that I was on the climb, I relaxed.
Not every person with diabetes experiences low blood sugars the same way. They manifest in their own, strange little ways. But sometimes you manually refrain from touching the rollers in your hair because you don't want a Steel Magnolias moment to be the "rogue" symptom.
Besides, you never want to ruin the epic work of a talented Truvy. ;)