Touché!

Jeez! The borage of comments and threats I received after my "Diabetes Makes You Stupid" post. My mother went out and bought me a lifetime supply of skittles! Jerry is threatening to sew bells onto all of my clothes! Had I realized that this was the response I would have received, I might have played it a different way! Like....

I went to the gym this weekend, started to run, and felt a little funny. I checked my blood sugar and realized, "Shit! I don't have my diamond rings with me! Damn it! How could I forget my diamond rings? Should I tell the instructor? Will I be okay? I really could have used my diamond rings!"

Any takers? Any one? Any one?

After giving everyone the speech about how I'm still learning diabetes, still working on accepting it, knowing and allowing little mistakes to happen, trying to find the balance between being obsessive and being lax to the point of dangerous, diabetes decided to throw me a curve ball this morning. Shithead.

I went to bed last night with a 141 blood sugar, which is pretty good for preparing to go to bed since my blood sugar tends to drop in the middle of the night. My dinner was not all that carby as I just ate a veggie wrap and low carb brownie. I did not have anything else to eat.

I woke up this morning to, what I realize now, is a test. Diabetes is trying to see if I will actually practice what I preach (or vehemently type) to others. That mistakes happen, that I'm not going to get upset over every high blood sugar, not going to cry at every low, accept that diabetes just is.

I check my blood sugar and it's 256!! What the fuck?! That can't be right! I check again, 250. Huh? I check again 214! Even though they're all different numbers, I think I can average them out and see I'm in the 200s FOR NO FUCKING REASON!

I calm myself down, trying to repeat all of the defenses I just used with everyone else. Remember, not getting upset over every high blood sugar. Accepting that mistakes happen. Blah blah blah. Whatever!

Stupid fucking pancreas!

But I get it. I see it. I see the test.

Touché, diabetes. Touché.

Diabetes Makes You Stupid.

Okay, maybe diabetes doesn't make you stupid. But it definitely makes ME stupid.

Since becoming diagnosed, there are times I think "Well, that was just stupid." I am sure there were plenty of these times before diabetes, but we're not talking about that. Usually, these moments are in regards to diabetes preparation of sorts. Like having juice on hand or leaving my insulin pens somewhere.

I had a "just stupid" moment at the gym this weekend. On Saturday mornings, I attend a sports conditioning class. It is basically circuit-training with different cardio and strength training moves. It's a challenging class, but I enjoy it. I enjoy it so much, I usually recruit others to be tortured, I mean, take it with me. This time, I took my friend Laura. 

Because I have attended this class for almost two years now, the instructor knows me pretty well (in the fitness sense anyway). He usually has the people who are most familiar with the class start off an exercise drill. This week, I start off the run. I start running and feel pretty good at the start but as we end the run, I feel a little funny. Nothing I can put my finger on, just funny. I decide I need to check my blood sugar before going onto the next set of exercises. 

I check it and I'm at a 54. Eek! How the hell did that happen? I had a banana and glass of milk before coming to the gym! I check my purse for the juice box I thought I put in there, but can't find it. I figure I'll just go buy a Gatorade from the vending machine...except I spent my last dollar on wine last night. How about Laura? Does she have any money? Nope, she doesn't either. 

All while this is going on, the instructor is looking at me, trying to gauge if I am okay as I usually don't just stop in the middle of class and make this scene of walking in and out. It is decision time. Do I tell him I'm diabetic? Do I tell him I'm hypoglycemic? I decide to err on the side of caution and tell him. 

As I struggle to figure out how I am going to treat this low and still participate in the class, Laura pulls a granola bar out her bag! Yay! I quickly shove the granola bar in my mouth, give myself a few minutes to let the carbs kick in, and re-join the class. I was fine through the rest of it. 

At the end of the class, I realize that it was just stupid. I should have had a juice box or something in my bag. It ended up being okay (you can breath now, Mom) but it was unnecessary drama that could have been avoided if diabetes didn't make me stupid.