In the Trenches.
What was different about yesterday?
At first, I thought the Dexcom sensor was quitting. It was Day 8 of this sensor, but even though the adhesive was hanging on by a thread the day prior, the results were so matchy-matchy with my glucose meter that I was reluctant to pull the sensor. (That, and it didn't itch at all, so if it was spot-on and not giving me leg leprosy, I was all in.) I slapped on some Opsite Flexifix tape around the edges, in hopes of grabbing a few more days.
"GIVE ME YOUR BLOOD" the receiver shouted (or offered up the little blood droplet equivalent of that demand). It wanted to be calibrated way more often than normal, so I figured the sensor was finally quitting.
Only every time I tested, it was right: I was low. Again. Repeatedly.
WHY? I'm not sick. I didn't eat something strange and new. I didn't push through some foreign and difficult workout. The infusion set wasn't new. I'm not pregnant. (Repeat: I am not pregnant.) I wasn't stressed. I didn't treat that first low at 7 am with a bowl of Rolos and then a massive bolus. Nothing was different about yesterday that should have warranted this series of hypoglycemic events. Yet there were five of them throughout my sensor's "last stand."
The sensor yawned off my leg last night, and I made the rotten decision to put a new one on this morning. Which, of course means that I was 47 mg/dL at 3 am. (My poor liver, even with a shock of carbs, couldn't rebound me out of that one. And yes, I had an alarm set for 2:30 am, based on the history of lows I had that day. And yes, I slept through it. Yes, I'm pissed off about this.)
The definition of diabetes is doing the same thing over and over again and getting wildly different, and sometimes frustrating, results.
But the definition of a person with diabetes is someone who keeps trying, despite the ironic insanity.