Note: I want to preface my post by saying that although the story has serious events, I am being tongue-in-cheek in some of my comments regarding them. Some early posters were concerned of me beating myself up too much, and although I still feel silly about the whole thing, my use of some words were my sad attempt at using some sick sarcam. My apologies.
Since my last blog post, I have seen my CDE and have made great progress in getting myself undrer better control. My lows were were my problem...happening all too frequently. But the great news is that not only have I cut them down to 1/4 of what I had before, my blood sugars have been pretty stable. Not perfect...which is somethig I know I can never achieve, but I do feel like I am closer to my goal than ever before. Even though my A1c was 5.3 which was .5 percent lower than before, it was do to good control and not frequent lows. My CDE was thrilled for me and I'll have to admit, that her being proud of me felt really good and was something that I think I needed however childish it seems.
But with all my mini accomplishments, I had a setback that made me feel, well, stupid. My husband was at least an hour from home and I was with my children. I had fed them dinner and while they were occupied eating, I changed out my pump and took my insulin for my dinner and began to wait 15 minutes before eating. My first mistake was thinking that I could quickly pick up the toys on the floor and then get my dinner.
After I picked up the toys, I completely forgot about eating and began helping the kids finish with their dinner and clean-up. Then we sat down to watch a movie together. After watching the movie for a bit and my daughter asking me a million questions that normally I could explain but just seemed too taxing to answer, it occurred to me that I might be low if I couldn't answer her. So I checked...27!!!
27!! I was 94 after changing my pump. How could I have been so low? But of course, I didn't even remember that I had taken 9 units of insulin which was more than I normally do because my insulin needs were a little more than usual for the past couple of days. My daughter ran and upstairs to get my bottle of glucose drink and as I was drinking it and starting to feel faint and sick, my son, the cute little human tornado that he is, had to add his touch to the whole situation. He dropped the small snowglobe that he was given as a gift a few hours before. It smashes into a million pieces on the floor.
So there I was, with a low blood sugar, still unaware that I had taken 9 units of insulin, broken glass all over the floor and two children who were home alone with me. How colossally stupid could I be? I called my husband and told him what was going on and he began his trip home. I asked him to stay on the phone with the kids. I really thought I was going to pass out. With all that was going on and the lack of energy my brain had, somehow I was able to think rationally enough to look at my pump and see that I took 9 units of insulin and AN HOUR BEFORE. So I drank a cup of juice and had some crackers in hopes to cover the insulin I took.
I am so grateful I didn't pass out, but was once again horrified that my children witnessed me sweating profusely and more than likely not making a whole lot of sense. I remember being terrified at seeing my father in this condition when I was their age. I try very hard to always be the one who cares for myself. But this is the second time in my seven years with D that my children had to witness a scary episode.
I could only imagine if someone on the outside could see me chugging juice, stuffing crackers down my throat and telling my children to put thier shoes on so they don't step in glass. What a mad house!
FAIL!!
