My Diabetes Anniversary

Happy Anniversary, Diabetes. You've entered my life two years ago and I haven't been able to shake you since. Just like a case of herpes. 

I've had this blog for almost two years and have never posted the full story of my diagnosis. Initially, it was just too hard to write. As time ticked by and diabetes became a normal part of my everyday life, it just wasn't something that I thought about anymore. And now....now I see the importance of it. If the point of this blog is help out a newly diagnosed twentysomething year old, it would be good for them to know where I started. 

Sit back and relax. This is a long one. 

The day before I was diagnosed with diabetes, Jerry and I won a pie competition. We kicked some pie ass with our Vermont Death Pie (aka Maple Bacon Praline Apple Pie, say that three times fast!). We competed against 35 other pies – almost all of which I personally sampled. It was delicious! It was awesome! It was ironic!

Earlier that day, assuming I was spending the day perfecting our pie, Jerry called to check in. I answered the phone in tears...from my bed. Looking back at it now, I am not sure if it was pure exhaustion or the frustration of insatiable thirst and hunger. Feeling much like a cranky, overwhelmed child, I put myself down for a nap like any good parent would. 

The truth was I hadn’t felt well for quite a while. On a nightly basis, I was alternately awoken by painful muscle cramps or a gut-busting need to pee! No matter how much I slept, I was exhausted. No matter how much I drank, I was thirsty. No matter how much I ate, I was starving! My body felt heavy. My limbs were weak. I was losing weight without even trying.

Despite all of this, I was far from thinking that I was diabetic. After all, I was young, healthy, ate well and exercised regularly. Sure, I knew how I was feeling wasn’t normal, but diabetes? Isn't that just for overweight people who eat too much candy?

My primary care physician called me the day after the pie competition to inform that I was, in fact, diabetic. I immediately burst into tears. She had little information to offer me. Not sure how someone at the age of 28 could possibly Type 1, she assumed I was Type 2. She suggested I stay away from sweets and make an appointment with an endocrinologist the following week. This was on a Friday afternoon. 

I spent the rest of the weekend in diabetic limbo, scouring the internet for answers. Which only made my head explode! Questions swirled around my head. What should I eat? What should I avoid? What did this mean for my future health? What did it mean for when I wanted to get pregnant? We spent the weekend at a full-day beer festival. What better way to drown your sorrows?

By the time Jerry's birthday came around a few days later, my untreated diabetes had hit its lowest point. I felt absolutely awful. I was exhausted, in pain, barely able to focus. The night ended with me in a crying heap, not really sure what life was going to look like.

When I first called the endocrinologist my PCP recommended, I was told I had to wait a month for an appointment. A MONTH! Are you fucking kidding me? Which is exactly what I said to the nurse on the phone. She was not too pleased, but considering my circumstances, she took pity on me and got me an appointment for the following week. Within 5 minutes, she had called me back, stating that the doctor just looked at my test results and wanted me to come in tomorrow. That couldn't be good.

When I saw the endocrinologist the next day, my blood sugar was immediately taken, 491. Was that bad? I didn’t even know. The doctor, in a matter-of-fact way, said “I’m sorry but you’re a type 1 diabetic. Your blood sugar is almost 500. This is not something that can be treated on an outpatient basis.” Through tears, I asked what that meant. She said “I need to send you to the Emergency Room where you will be admitted to the hospital.”

I spent the next 8 hours in the emergency room waiting for a room to open up. I was immediately put on IV fluids and given shots of insulin. It was surreal. I kept looking over at mother, who was with me at the appointment, and repeatedly said “I’m so sorry, Mommy” not even sure what I was apologizing for. I had started my day any other way, ate breakfast, drove to work and had a couple of meetings before heading to a doctor’s appointment on my lunch break. My day ended in a bleak hospital room, blood testing every two hours, an IV in the arm, feelings of absolute helplessness, anxiety, exhaustion, and depression. This is my life now? How did this happen so quickly?

Once everyone emptied out of my hospital room, I started to cry. And I couldn't stop.

I was inconsolable. Several concerned nurses tried to talk to me, but the mix of sadness and exhaustion prevented me from saying anything other then, “I’m okay. Don’t want to talk,” I cried until I fell asleep, realizing that my life was forever changed.

I spent the next three days completing a crash course in Diabetes Survival 101 and learning a new, unfamiliar language. Information came in waves. Totally lost, completely overwhelmed, I was discharged from the hospital to start this new adventure. At that time, I assumed life was over. I had stopped thinking about the future, because in my depressed mind, one just didn't exist anymore.

When I think back over the last two years, I really am proud of how far I've come. Life didn't end. It just looks a little different now.

The Little Post that Could

Ever since Jerry and I started dating, despite all of the other wonderful contributions I have made to his life, I have been a curse to his birthday.

The first year we were dating, I was diagnosed with diabetes, felt like shit all through his birthday dinner, and was hospitalized the very next day. Welcome to 30! Weeeee!

The second year, we weren't dating at all. We had broken up just days before his birthday. Fun stuff. 

This year....well, this year, I wasn't completely sure that we would make it to his birthday either. I have neglected to post any updates on our move and living together, mostly, because it's kind of sucked. The adjustment of living together in combination with some relationship issues we hadn't quite worked through had made those first few months not fun ones.

After several months of being bogged down in so much negativity, we hit our breaking point. If it hadn't been for our already planned trip to Spain, I probably would have been packing my bags. I'm glad I didn't. 

I am thankful for our trip to Spain for so many reasons, the most of which is the renewed energy and hope I gained in our relationship. Once all that shit was put aside, I saw the man I love. Hiding behind a cloud of his own noxious gas. But still...he was there.

And now I am here. Celebrating the birthday of the guy who exudes excitement over the smallest things, who has an endearing playfulness and humor, who offers to help strangers when most of us would probably just walk on by.

Relationships are not easy. Living together is even more challenging.

I'm not sure where our crazy lives are leading us, but I sure am glad you've been around for part of mine. And that I can be here for part of yours.

Happy Birthday, my dear. To many more, less-cursed birthdays. 

Mixed Emotions

Today, I had an appointment with my Endocrinologist.

I usually have a fair amount of anxiety before each of my endo appointments. While I would normally joke that it's because of my high school crush on my doctor, it really is because I'm never quite sure what my numbers are going to look like. I usually get a full panel of blood work done prior to each appointment so we can go over the results.

Well, not this time.

This time, I knew that the numbers weren't going to be where I would like them. When the nurse asked if I wanted to have an a1c done in the office, I begrudgingly agreed. I had a sense it would be the 7.0 range. Which is why I shouldn't feel too disappointed to find out that it's 7.2 Up significantly from my last 6.1.

But I am disappointed. Sort of.

I am disappointed by the overall number. Obviously. But there are a few things that make it not seem so bad. First, I had an awesome summer filled with weekend trips and a seriously amazing vacation. I ate and drank what I pleased, knowing that there may have been some diabetes consequences. I probably didn't check as often as I should, ate things I probably shouldn't have, and enjoyed myself. It's not like I let things get wildly out of control. I was a little lax. It happens. Maybe I'll figure out a better balance....next summer.

The other thing that I am kind of impressed with is my reaction to that number. Normally, I would have been on the phone to my sister, a blubbering mess about how I am going to die young because my a1c was a 6.8 instead of a 6.5. I would start rattling off all of the possible complications I would get now that my a1c has increased.

This time....no blubbering. No catastrophizing. No hysterical phones calls to....well, anyone really.

I don't want people to assume that I am not taking this increase seriously. Because I am. But I also have come to the realization that I will be diabetic for the rest of my life. I will have thousands of a1c tests. Some will be amazing and I'm sure some will not be. I can't cry over every bad number. I can't worry about every possible complication that can come of me. Life would be pretty bleak if I did that.

What I can do is come up with a plan.

The plan is:

• Begin to test my blood sugar 6 to 8 times a day - I've fallen off of this a bit
• Monitor and measure my food - The summer has put me off this habit. Time to get back on it.
• Food-logging - I always say I'll do this and then don't
• Mark the dates of my insulin - I definitely haven't kept track of when my insulin expires, causing me to have a few days with shitty insulin and high numbers
• Make an appointment with the CDE - already done!

6.1, I'm coming for you!

Breaking the Seal

I know I just wrote a post about grasping onto every last bit of summer. And how I try to avoid accepting the autumn season for as long as I can.

But I've already done it. I broke the seal. The pumpkin seal. I have already opened my first can of pumpkin. Okay, fine, my first two cans of pumpkin!

I didn't mean to. It just sort of....happened. Before I knew what I was doing, I had opened a can and added it to oatmeal. Then, when I saw a recipe for Pumpkin Pie Chia Pudding....well, let's just say I had no choice. It couldn't have been avoided any longer!

And since we're being all honest with each other, I have another pumpkin confession to make. This is a bad one too. 

Last week, I suddenly came down with a stomach virus. Initially, I thought I had just woke up with an upset stomach, assumed it would pass, and continued getting ready for my day. Since seeing the recipe the day before, all I could think of making was Pumpkin Pie Chia Pudding! I mix it up and put it in the fridge to chill, only for the full force of the stomach virus to hit me several minutes later.

When I was finally able to leave the bathroom, I decided to try a bite. It was good. It was so good, I had another bite, and another bite. Before I knew it, I had eaten half of the pudding! I kept thinking, "I have to save same for Jerry. I have to save some for Jerry."

But then the lawyer (or fat kid, take your pick) in me kicked in, "Will he really eat this knowing that I made it while I was sick? Probably not. And it would be unfair to him to have it in the fridge and him not be able to eat it. I should just eat the whole thing and poor Jerry won't have to suffer that torment."

Which is exactly what happened. I finished the entire bowl of pudding!

Slightly disgusted, partially embarrassed, I rinsed the dishes, put them in the dishwasher, and no one was the wiser. I'd like to think that karma came back around as I spent the next hour in the bathroom, not enjoying my Pumpkin Pie Chia Pudding.

Now, who wants some pudding?!?

Pumpkin just doesn't photograph well.

Pumpkin Pie Chia Pudding

by Bonnie Graham

Prep Time: 10 minutes

Keywords: food processor dessert snack chia seeds pumpkin fall

6032527

Ingredients (4 servings)

• 3/4 c milk
• 1 c canned pumpkin, chilled if possible
• 3 tbsp chia seeds, ground into a powder
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 1/2 heaping tsp cinnamon, or more to taste
• 1/4 tsp ground ginger
• 1/4 tsp nutmeg
• 1/4 tsp clove
• 2 tsp sucunat or sweetener of your choice

Instructions

1. Ground your chia seeds into a medium fine powder. Set aside.

2. In a food processor or blender, combine milk, pumpkin, vanilla, sweetener, and spices. Blend well to combine. Scrape down sides.

3. With processor running, slowly pour in chia seed powder. This is to help the chia seeds be more evenly distributed in your pudding and so you don't end up with blogs of chia stuck together. Scrape down sides and process for 30 seconds longer.

4. Pour pudding into preferred container. Let set in the fridge for 1 to 2 hours before enjoying!

Powered by Recipage

Dirty Veggies Are Back!

Oh Farmer's Market! How I've missed you!

Between our vacation, days off from work, and my being sick, it seems like MONTHS since I visited my weekly farmer's market! It's really been more like A month, but whatever. I was ridiculously excited to go yesterday. It was as if I had won a trip to Disney World with one of those special passes that let you cut straight to the front of the line....which I think may only be for children with special needs, but hey, I qualify!

As the weather has started to make its shift into the colder temperatures, the food at the farmer's market is also reflecting the shift. While there were still plenty of zucchini and tomatoes to be had, there were also more apples, squash, and potatoes.

In my zealousness to be back at the market, I went waaaaay over-budget. But, as usual, I can justify it. You see, it's been at least 4 weeks since I've been to the farmer's market. So that's four weeks where my $15 was spent else where. I owe it to this farmers to make up for the money they've lost. It's my duty. I'm so patriotic like that.

Which is why I'm over budget this week. Oopsy.

This week's roundup
2 yams - $1.75
1 very large butternut squash - $3.25 - trust me, it's big!
1 large eggplant - $2.25
1 huge bunch of kale - $2.00
1 bunch carrots - $1.75
4 NYS apples - $3.00
2 zucchini - $2.00
1 container of figs - $4.00 - my splurge, had to see if they were as good as in Spain. They weren't.
Total: $20

Ah, it feels good to be back.

To the farmer's market.

Because, make no mistake. I would still rather be in Spain.

Doctors, Diabetes, and Diagnosis

On my third day back to work, I came down with the longest lasting stomach flu ever. EVER.

The first day of this flu was pretty terrible. I had a fever, full body aches and chills all the while crapping my brains out for what seemed like every hour on the hour. The second day, I felt better, but couldn't be more then 25 feet from the bathroom. By the third day, I should have swallowed my stubbornness and gone to the doctor. But I didn't.

Which is why I found myself at the Urgent Care Clinic on Saturday morning, complete with headache, chills, and body aches. Oh, and that whole bathroom thing.

I recited all my symptoms to the Nursing Assistant and then included, "Oh, and I'm a type 1 diabetic." Little reaction.

The doctor comes in for a repeat of all symptoms, to which he suggested that I start drinking Pedialyte. Assuming he had read the chart, I pointed out that I was a type 1 diabetic, thinking that they're had to be something better then Pedialyte for me to drink.

"How long have you been a diabetic? Since birth?"
"No, I was diagnosed two years ago."
He grimaces and I think, "Oh lord, here it comes."
"What made them arrive at the conclusion that you were type 1?"
"Ummm, the whole needing insulin to live thing probably pointed them in the right direction. Having this insulin beeper strapped to my side doesn't hurt either!" is what I should have said.
What I actually said is "I wear an insulin pump," a little dumbfounded that this doctor who knows absolutely nothing of my medical history is questioning my diagnosis.
"But type 1 occurs in childhood."
"And apparently when you're 28."

One of the most annoying things in dealing with medical professionals is this constant battle over what doctors think they know about diabetes. How rigid (and out of date) their knowledge is about it. Under the age of 18, must be type 1. Over the age 18, must be type 2. What's worse is this arrogance that somehow they're going to diagnosis me better then my endocrinologist who specializes in type 1, two years of blood work, blood sugar testing, insulin pumps, and a1c results.

Yes, you doctor, who I have only seen for two minutes are correct in assuming that all other medical professionals I have seen in the last two years are wrong. You must be right that I'm too old to have type 1 diabetes and I should just diet and exercise. Now that that whole diabetes thing is settled, can we talk about this shitting my brains out and pesky fever now?

Asshole.

Overzealous

Okay, I'll admit it. I got overzealous.

I saw local apples on sale at the supermarket and, against my better judgement, bought some.

Now, I am not one of those people who easily gives up summer. In fact, I am one of those people you hear cursing in the middle of CVS, exclaiming, "It's only August. Why the fuck is there stuff out for Thanksgiving?" Really. Who needs to be reminded that the chilly, dark days of winter will be upon us in just a few short months?! Not me!

I find myself clutching to every single last ray of sunshine before finally committing myself to the fall season. I'll wear flipflops and sundresses far past their appropriateness. I love summer! I love beach days! I love being tan! I am sad every time I see it go.

Which is why I had initially resisted the buying of these apples. Apples signifies autumn to me. It means leaves are changing and sweater season is upon us. While I have grown to really love fall too, I am not ready for it.

Despite my resistance, apples I did buy. Mealy apples at that. Ugh. Is there anything worse then a mealy apple? Apples should be crisp and juicy and sweet. What does one do with mealy apples? Some of you out there my choke these disgrace to fruit down. Or, like my family, carry it back and forth to work for several days before it's just too bruised and beat up that you need to throw it away. We refer to this phenomenon as "The Comfort Fruit."

OR you can do something really wonderful and ingenious with it and make a Cinnamon Apple Breakfast Bake! My, my, my, what smart girl would think to do something like that?!

Ahem...No need for thanks.

Cinnamon Apple Breakfast Bake

by Bonnie Graham

Cook Time: 25 - 30 minutes

Keywords: bake breakfast snack vegetarian apples cinnamon oats nuts fall

6032176

Ingredients

• 3/4 c rolled oats
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 2 tbsp sucanat or other sweetener (add more to your taste)
• 1/4 tsp salt
• 1 tsp cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp nutmeg
• 2 - 3 tbsp golden flax seeds
• 3 - 4 tbsp silvered or sliced almonds
• 3 tbsp sunflower seeds
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 1/2 c apple sauce
• 1/2 c milk
• 1 1/2 tbsp coconut oil or other neutral oil (optional)
• 1 apple, diced into smaller pieces
• Optional add-ins: shredded coconut, chia seeds, walnuts or other nuts of your choosing, chocolate chips (who says you can't have chocolate in the morning?)

Instructions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees

2. Add all the dry ingredients together in a bowl. Mix well.

3. Add vanilla, applesauce, milk, and coconut oil. Stir to combine.

4. Add in apples. Mix well.

5. Pour mixture into prepared baking dish.

6. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes. You can also broil for a few minutes at the end of the baking time to get a brown crust on top.

Powered by Recipage

Running Through It

I'm referring to my insulin.

While I mentioned in my post about travelling that one needs to accept that they may use more insulin when on vacation, I wasn't exactly mentally prepared for it. Sure, sure, I sounded all calm and zen about it. I know I'm going to have more high blood sugars. I know I'm going to use more insulin. I know I'm going to possibly have a low in the middle of a massive tomato fight filled with a bunch of Europeans. Yes, yes, I know, I know. It's all fine.

Until it happens.

I heard the familiar beep of my insulin pump, alerting me to a low reservoir (aka running out of insulin). The pump usually gives me a 20 unit warning, meaning that I'm not going to die in the next few minutes. It usually takes me about a day to run through a full 20 units. Apparently, that's not true when I'm travelling in Spain.

You want to hear another funny insulin thing about travelling in Spain? Okay!

I fill my reservoirs up to about the same amount of insulin each time, roughly 80 to 90 units. That usually lasts me three to four days. I've even stretched it to five (unintentionally). In Spain, I barely made it to three days. While supplies are definitely not an issue, it just isn't something I'm use to.

Overall, diabetes had not been a downer on this trip. There were moments where I was annoyed with diabetes or disappointed with numbers, but they were also just that. Moments. Fleeting thoughts that were only dwelled upon until the next glass of Sangria. Which came often.

I was on vacation. In beautiful places. Eating amazing food. I gave myself this vacation.

Something I Did Miss

I'm not sure if I mention this, but I am in love with Spain. Did you notice?

Many of my friends and families were convinced that I wasn't ever coming home. Trust me, it was definitely a consideration. 

Despite all the wonderful and glorious food of Spain, one thing we did really miss was vegetables! As you might have seen from my pictures, there was a lot of seafood eating going on. And figs. Did I mention the figs? How amazing they were? How I will never be able to eat another fig ever again unless I'm in Barcelona? And the peppers. Oh my god, the peppers! Let's not get me started on that. 

However, Spain isn't exactly a vegetarian-friendly culture. The one time we tried to order a vegetable sandwich, it came with ham on it! 

While we were prepared to eat meat this trip, Jerry and I are practically vegetarian eaters with a variety of vegetables usually being the main focus of our meals. When we got home, Jerry announced that he only wanted to eat vegetables. Nothing else. No grains. No protein. Just straight up veggies. He didn't even want seasoning. Jerry? Not want seasoning? This is the guy who would sprinkle curry powder into our oatmeal if I let him.

Our first night home, we roasted up about 5 pounds (not even being sarcastic) of vegetables, including broccoli, carrots, parsnips, butternut squash, mushrooms, and onions. With spices. By our second night home, I wanted something a little bit more developed that just a massive bowl of roasted veggies, no matter how delicious.

So, what did I do? I created a massive bowl of sauteed veggies! Soooooo different, right?

But this time....I topped it with an egg! Booyah!

Dish inspired by my friend, Carrie

Warm Summer Vegetable Slaw

by Bonnie Graham

Cook Time: 20 to 25 minutes

Keywords: saute entree side vegetarian low-carb eggs carrots zucchini

6032177

Ingredients (2 - 3 large servings)

• 1 - 2 cloves garlic, chopped fine
• 1/2 large red onion, sliced
• 1 medium to large zucchini, shredded
• 2 large carrots, shredded
• 1 ear of corn, kernels removed
• 1 tsp fennel seeds
• 2 tsp oregano
• 1/2 tsp crushed red pepper
• 1 tsp dried basil
• salt and pepper
• olive oil
• 1 egg for each serving
• Optional: grated Parmesan cheese

Instructions

1. Saute garlic and onions in olive oil while you use your food processor or mandolin to shred the zucchini and carrots.

2. Add shredded veggies as you go until all are added in.

3. Add in all your spice and saute until veggies start to soften. Let cook, tossing every few minutes or so.

4. Meanwhile, take the kernels off your corn cob and reserve to the side.

5. Heat a pan and prepare your fried eggs.

6. Once veggies are sufficiently soften (carrots are tender), plate up, adding the raw corn kernels in at the end. Top with an egg.

Powered by Recipage

Things I Already Miss

It's been less then 24 hours since arriving home from Spain and I'm already in deep longing for the shores of Cadaques and tapas of Barcelona.

Here are a few of the things I already miss.

Peaceful, Easy Feeling

Sitting in an outdoor cafe, sipping on a Cafe Americano, staring out into these beautiful views....

I felt a calm that I haven't felt in a very long time. No rush. No worries. No tasks I need to cross off my To-Do list. Nothing else to do but to sit here and enjoy my drink. 

It feels amazing. 

The Meal that Saved France

As part of our trip, considering how close to the border we would be, we decided to spend a few days in the South of France. Having just fallen in love with Barcelona, Perpignan was going to have some stiff competition as Barcelona had just become my most favorite place ever...in the world!

When we first arrived in Perpignan, it was cold and windy and raining. Not a good start. On top of that, the streets are insane, which is particularly difficult when you don't speak, understand, or know a glimmer of the language. Riddled with anxiety about not knowing the language, assuming that all French people would hate us, nerves a little frazzled from being completely lost, our first few hours in Perpignan weren't good ones.

After a few hours of isolation in our room due to embarrassment at our complete lack of understanding and knowledge of the French language besides "soup du juor" and "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?" (gotta love Lady Marmalade), we finally ventured out in Perpignan. Where it was dead. The place was a ghost town. It was like they announced tasteless Americans had arrived and everyone boarded up their windows to await our celebrated departure. Which I guess is what happens when the only question you know is "Would you like to sleep with me?" It would certainly make us popular in New York!

However, the more we wandered, the more Perpignan grew on us. Maybe this place was cute, despite the wind....and rain....and French people?

Pictures taken our first night

 

Then dinner happened. Ah, food cures all, doesn't it? 

After wandering around a bit, there was a row of restaurants right outside our hotel that seemed to be the only ones opened. Luckily, our waiter spoke English, so we didn't have to resort to grunting and pointing as our primary way of communicating. He was also very pleasant and friendly as were most people we met.

We ordered a bottle of wine, started with a cheese plate, and welcomed France with open arms.

You had me fromage!

Which means "cheese". See how much French I picked up! :)

One of the best cheese plates I ever had.

Duck

Shrimp

Tomato: To Eat or to Throw?

One of the experiences we were most looking forward to on our trip to Spain was La Tomatina Festival. It is an annual tomato fight in the town of Bunol, where locals and visitors alike prepare themselves to be pelted with tomatoes.

The experience was definitely intense, to say the least. It's basically a mosh pit with tomato juice.
Everyone pushes into a small square in the center of Bunol and wait for large trucks filled with tomatoes to plow through, leaving buckets of sauce in its wake. As the trucks come in, insanity ensues! The crowd pushes together to make room for the trucks, to get leverage, to cop a feel (which I was on the receiving end of, the downside of the festival), to catch a breath, grab a tomato, whatever else you can do in a crushing crowd of hundreds of people.

At one point, I had to yell for Jerry's help as I wasn't able to breath in the body crush of the crowd. Finally making it over to a wall that provided a little bit more stability, there was a lull in the onslaught of trucks, allowing me a quick moment to hold out my hands.

Shaking hands. Not a good sign.

Jerry looked at my hands and immediately asked, "You're low?!"

Tears began forming in my eyes. The festival had just started. There was no easy way out of this crowd and I had stupidly not brought in anything to treat a low. I checked for the other usual signs. Was I getting hot? Was my mind slowing down? Did I feel shaking anywhere else in my body? Was this just the result of an adrenaline boost to the system from being squeezed by tomato-soaked Spaniards? Should I just start eating tomatoes in the hopes that it rises my blood sugar?

I took a deep breath. Calmed down a bit and said no. I don't think I was having a low. Just a slight panic attack. I promised Jerry if I started to feel weak, we'd push through the crowd and get something to treat it immediately. We stayed in the center of the madness for another 20 minutes before we both agreed to call it quits. Once out of the pit, all feelings of hypoglycemia faded away.

We warned to not carry anything as things got a little crazy and would pretty much be destroyed. I took that suggestion too far, forgetting that, as a diabetic, the concept of "not carrying anything with me" just does not apply.