Every diabetic, at one time or another has over corrected. Blood sugar drops and in a desperate attempt to raise it before sudden death, you shove as much food as possible into your mouth. We have all done it and it is ok. This is not a perfect disease nor are we perfect people.
Last night I woke up to the shrill sound of Dex bitching at me once again. I am fairly positive that I will never get a good nights rest as long as Dex is in my life. He’s my pseudo husband, I swear. Hell bent on never letting me sleep. I even set his range lower than it was just so I could get a couple extra minutes of sleep. Dex used to scream at 80, now he screams at 70. So, about 2am I heard him buzzing. I rolled over and pushed ‘OK’ about 15 times. ‘Yea, yea, I got it, couple more minutes..zzzzzzzzzz….’ Dex must have buzzed again and I didn’t hear it because the next thing I did hear was the shrill of a 1000 banshees. UGH!!! I grabbed Dex. ‘42!!’ he yelled! ‘The answer to everything!!’
I sat straight up, let the dizziness attack, thought about dolphins, hit ‘OK’and swung my legs over the side of the bed. Not happy. Not clear. Not myself. But not completely gone. My brain automatically went into ‘madness mode’ simultaneously screaming “FEED ME NOW!!” and “DON’T EAT TOO MUCH!!” I shuffled to the pantry and shoved a chocolate Weight Watchers cake into my mouth. Not tasting, not enjoying, just correcting. The cake had its mission. It’s like how orange juice used to be good until it was used to raise my blood sugar. Now it is like medicine and I despise it. There was no sugar joy to be had here.
In my zombie like daze I walked to the kitchen, ate a cookie and a tootsie roll midgie. Then I lost control in a different way. I grabbed another cookie, a handful of Skittles, my water and headed back to my bed all the while shoving random junk into my mouth. Even in the dead of night, when the brain is clearly not functioning, the will to survive steps in and takes control. Over correction. I woke up this morning to another buzzing. This time high. Dex told me I was 310. ‘Wonderful.’ I tell myself as I feel the leftover glucose glaze on my teeth. ‘I hope you are happy.’ I bolused and set myself back on the right path once again.
The need to bring your bs level up and the will to not over correct do a constant battle. If you are clear enough in your oxygen starved brain to realize too much is just as bad as too little, you find the will power to resist. Most of the time, I don’t have that will power. Eh, what can you do? I’d rather treat a high than a low. Low bs seems a bit more desperate to me and are a little more difficult to manage or deal with. Highs aren’t as dramatic for me…at least not now.
For everyone, stress is a bad thing. Life, the people and the things in it have a tendency to pile on the stress…sometimes on a daily basis. Not to mention the fact that I’m trying to control an uncontrollable disease day in & day out. It’s stressful enough to know that you blew it. You ate too much, not enough, didn’t calculate the carbs, didn’t work out enough, worked out too much, got road rage, yelled at your child, let your boss annoy you….all of these things screw with your bs. Mine especially. My doc and I tested my theory out. I tested my bs religiously throughout a very stressful time at work, sugars were sky high. I tested my bs religiously throughout a easy peasy lemon squeezy time at home, sugars were normal. Stress is a huge factor in how my body reacts to living. Gawd, I’m getting stressed just writing about it.
While everyone should figure out a way to keep life calm, diabetics NEED to keep life calm. If we don’t, we could end up in a sticky situation. Sweetness pun intended. How do I stop letting life dictate my bs levels? Difficult thing to do. I just have to remember to not let things effect me emotionally. Otherwise, I’ll be up…and down…every day.
I only want to live in Candy Land and marry King Kandy if I’m there by choice….not by force. I bet King Kandy doesn't yell like Dex does.