The night before heading out to the Diabetes Sisters conference in Raleigh, NC (more on that tomorrow), I wanted to get to bed early and get a good night's sleep, since those have been hard to come by with travel, time changes, and my body's refusal to listen to my brain's good advice.
Suitcase packed up, Birdzone tucked in and asleep, and teeth brushed, I was ready for bed at 11 pm. Oh, hang on a second ... the Dexcom is blaring. What's that, you say, oh technological safety net of mine? 78 mg/dL and TWO arrows down?
I popped three glucose tabs into my mouth from the jar on my bedside table, and wiped away the glucose dust from my Dexcom receiver (somehow convinced it would seep in). Should be a quick fix, right?
But the low didn't stop there. Over the course of three hours (that's 11 pm to 2 am), I nursed a low blood sugar that refused to give up. I housed eight glucose tabs, half of a banana, some peanut butter, and a liter of frustration before seeing a steady climb on my Dexcom that was mirrored by my meter. It was a cruel tease, where the Dexcom would show a little bit of a climb (Weee!! 62 mg/dL headed on up to 80? I'll take it!) but then my blood sugar would tumble again and I'd test to see a 58 mg/dL.
It wasn't until just past 2 am that my blood sugar had been stable for more than a minute. And despite all that food, my meter still didn't put me over 100 mg/dL until the morning (which started at 5.45 am because that's when Birdy decided it would be fun to wake up and then I had to leave for the airport at 7.45 am ... weeeee?).
What is it with these tangly, clingy lows? The ones that are ripe with symptoms (three hours of tingling, numb lips and a tongue that felt like it was water-logged, and that panicked, racing-heart feeling where you could consume the contents of the fridge without feeling bad about then ordering a pizza) and take a dog's age (is that seven years?) to come around. Can I blame the late-afternoon exercise? The insulin pump site change? Hormones? Logic? Reason? The incessantly horny spring birds shagging outside my bedroom window? What makes one glucose tab fix one low, when it takes an entire fleet of cupcakes to sate the same number?
At this point, I'm either wishing for mint-flavored glucose tabs or glucose tabs with little bristles so that my teeth are re-brushed as I chomp on them.