Friday, May 6, 2011

Zoinks! The Fanta!

My very first episode of hypoglycemia scared the crap out of me. I was in the hospital and woke up to use the bathroom. The feeling reminded me of those drunken college nights where 10 cent beers and $1 tequila shots seemed like such a good idea! Only this was worse. My head was fogged and spinning. I was in a deep sweat. My thoughts didn’t quite make sense and my legs felt like jelly. I thought that, at any moment, I was going to crash.

I swore that night I would NEVER experience hypoglycemia AGAIN! (TRUMPETS BLARE)

How naïve I was! Hypoglycemia is a part of diabetes. Granted, my goal is to reduce the number of incidents I have (and never be as low as that night in the hospital), but to think I will never be hypoglycemic is unrealistic. I have accepted it. Sometimes, I forget that others around me aren’t quite as comfortable.

This occurred to me this past weekend when I was at a beer festival. We had rented a house for the weekend and this was our first night up. At first, it was just Jerry, Tom (J’s bro), and me. Jerry and I had bought some prepared frozen food to hold us over until other people got to the house. We had bought a Kashi roasted vegetable pizza and an Amy’s tofu lasagna. Pizza…lasagna…can you think of anything more carby?!

I took the units I thought appropriate to the meal. As Tom and I talked in the kitchen, I could feel “the slow down” kick in, the mind slow down that is. Where developing coherent thoughts and linking them to actual words becomes challenging.

I take my blood sugar, 48. I’m not proud. That’s pretty low, but it happens. I ask Tom to go to my car to get me a juice box. I would have gone myself, but I thought it would have put a damper on the weekend if I passed out while walking to my car. Tom quickly comes back with the juice box and starts to question me about the hypoglycemia. Why is it happening? Why do I need juice instead of taking more insulin, etc.? All questions I would normally not have a problem answering if it wasn't for the slow down.

Suddenly, Tom stops talking (remember, this is Jerry’s brother. It’s a real event when they stop talking!). “Are you okay?” he quickly asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine." I quickly take a seat.
"Are you sure?" he asks again.
"Yeah, I just need to lie down. Come check on me in a few minutes to make sure I don’t die” I joke as I already feel the affects of the juice kicking in. Eventually, Jerry comes into the room to check on me. I’m feeling better and he somehow convinces me to do a headstand. Sure, why not?

Later, Tom shared that all the color drained from my face. When Jerry came to check on me, I said "I think I scared Tom." I knew I would be okay. And Jerry knew I would be okay. But Tom wasn't as sure.  It is only because Jerry and I have been through the experience before. I forget how scary that first hypoglycemia was for us. And it is a good reminder of how scary hypoglycemia can be, especially if it is enough to silence a member of Jerry’s family for a few minutes. J

1 comment:

  1. I may be willing to pay you to use that trick on my mom one of these days.