I want to start by saying this post is filled with curse words and real emotions, so if you are easily offended – STOP reading now. This photograph sums up my thoughts on how I feel about diabetes. My weekend was a shitshow of highs and lows and I DID NOT consume a single piece of fucking candy. I’ve created a timeline of events so you can understand how everything diabetes worked against me.
- 11am – Have an incredibly stressful meeting where I could feel my blood pressure rise. I acted calmly and only broke down in the privacy of my office. Heated discussions soon followed and I took the rest of the afternoon to fester.
- Day Time – Had a series of meetings, nothing too stressful, but am still festering about a few issues with no resolution.
- 5:30pm – Head to friends home and enjoy my first glass of wine and snack on fancy cheese and green apple slices.
- 6:30pm – On to the next house – walked a few homes over and enjoyed the cool Halloween weather with friends by the fire. I snag five pieces from a friend’s 12-year-old son (1 Snickers, 2 mini Reese’s cups, 1 peanut M&M and a random Reese’s candy bar). Kid argues – I make it clear that I deserve this candy, give him the stink eye and say something along the lines of, “I have diabetes and don’t eat this shit normally so shut up and give me the candy.”
- 7:45pm – I’m sweet talked into making another stop. House #3 is serving Frito chili pie, Fat Tire beer, a sweet cocktail and chips and salsa. I eat a few chips and salsa and think it tastes oddly sweet. Whip out tester and almost shit my pants – my blood sugar is 480. There’s NO way a few apple slices, one beer and cheese have warranted this high of a BG. I shoot up. Positive note – home owner expresses his 80 year old father is a T1D so I hand him a DDG card.
- Rest of the evening – I check my BG every 45 minutes and try not to over correct.
- 3:34 am – Night sweats wake me up – BG = 43.
- 6:11am – I give my usual Lantus shot – 15 units and test, 128. Head back to bed.
- 7:32am – Woken up again by a weird feeling – BG = 41. Consume juice and lay back down.
- 9:30am – Feel like I’ve been hit by a truck and my face looks like I went on an all night bender.
- 10am – Force myself to eat breakfast and get in the shower. Put on enough under eye concealer and head to Coach Switzer’s home for a rare opportunity to see a live coach’s broadcast. HAVE TO BE SOCIAL.
- 2pm – Test blood sugar, 132 or something. Take appropriate insulin for catered in Buffalo Wild Wings (1/2 of chicken wrap, 2 wings and a Bud Light).
- 4pm – While writing my Deceptively Delicious post, I have problems with my eyes being blurry, mouth is dry and things aren’t coming together. Test my BG – 507. I freak the fuck out. I didn’t even know my meter would go that high. I question the accuracy and test 2 more times on different fingers – 390 and 386.
- 4:15pm – While sitting on the toilet, I pull out my Novolog and drop it on the tile floor – bottle shatters! You have got to be fucking kidding me! I’m house sitting and don’t have a back up bottle.
- Do I drive 40 minutes home to get my spare or have OKC pharmacy transfer prescription? That is where Ryan comes in. He talked me off of the ledge and we weighed the options.
- 5:30pm – Seven pharmacy calls later, I am in line at Wal-Mart. Fork over $50 for one bottle of fucking Novolog. Pharmacy tech mentions that I have to speak to the pharmacist about my medication, I quickly reply, “I have 30 years under my belt – I got this”, snag the insulin and bolt.
- 7pm – I attend a dinner party and quickly explain it has been a shitshow of a day for all things diabetes. They’re adorable and didn’t make a big deal about it. They were so kind and made a “diabetes friendly” meal for me including low sugar, gluten free cookies from Whole Foods.
- All evening – keep an eye on my numbers. Fingers are numb and I’m going through test strips like they cost a penny, not a dollar. I have a weird feeling my insurance company won’t understand this scenario.
Halloween, for me, has never been a holiday I enjoyed. I don’t want to dress slutty, have no desire to bob for apples and can’t/choose not to eat a damn thing folks normally hand out. This Halloween is one for the records – stress, no down time, festering and dropping bottles of insulin take the cake for worst Halloween ever. Blood sugar is still not back to normal, but I’ve chosen to focus on what I can do to make the situation a better one…
You should LIKE US on Facebook and share your stories.