Should I Have Called 911?

Unintentionally, I set a personal record the other day. I experienced my lowest low blood sugar – 34 mg/dL. I was alone. And it was terrifying.

Around 1 A.M., I woke up to my CGM buzzing and alerting me to what I presumed was a mild low blood sugar. I definitely felt like I was low, so I quickly ate three glucose tablets without checking and confirming my low on my blood glucose meter. And soon after that, things got really weird.

I tossed and turned for 15 minutes as I tried to fall back asleep. But I just couldn’t get comfortable. To make matters worse, a bizarre, numb sensation invaded my left arm. As I became more and more aware of it, my breathing started to run a bit ragged – almost like I was having a panic attack. Between the breathing and the numbness, I knew something was very wrong.

Should i have called 911_
What would you have done in this situation?

So I bolted upright in bed and grabbed my meter and kit to do a blood sugar check. And that’s when the number 34 popped up on the screen. I swore out loud, and almost immediately began sweating profusely. As beads formed around my hairline and streams trickled down my back, I reached for my bottle of glucose tablets as well as my phone. I ate three more tablets – wondering why the three I’d eaten 15 or so minutes ago seemed to have no affect – and contemplated dialing 911. After all, I was completely alone and there was no telling whether I’d pass out or need assistance from someone. In that moment in time, I craved talking to someone, anyone, who might be able to stay on the phone with me while I waited for my blood sugar to come back up.

Like a complete idiot, though, I decided not to call 911 and instead took to Twitter…*insert face palm here*. I know what you’re thinking, why the eff did I do that? Two reasons: 1) I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly and 2) I knew that someone, somewhere, within my diabetes online community would be awake and possibly willing to talk to me.

Thank goodness my intuition was right…my sweet friend, Heather, who I had the pleasure of meeting IRL five years ago, responded to my tweet a few minutes after I posted it. She offered to call, but by this point in time, I had made it downstairs and into the kitchen just fine and was helping myself to a cupcake I’d baked earlier in the day (oh, how convenient my passion for baking can be…sometimes). I exchanged a few tweets with her back and forth, and before I knew it, 45 minutes passed from the onset of my scary low blood sugar symptoms. I ambled back upstairs to my bed and checked my blood sugar before getting settled back into it. I was surprised to see I was only 72; after all, I’d consumed about 50 grams of carbohydrates in the last hour, and for me, that’s a lot! Most of my meals don’t even contain that many carbs!

Bemused and exhausted, I slumped against my bed frame and distracted myself by scrolling aimlessly through social media channels. My body and my mind craved rest. Much to the relief of both, I was able to get it before long, once I got confirmation from my CGM and my meter that I was finally above the 100 mark. I knew that I’d likely go up much higher (and I certainly did, waking up at 289 the next morning), but at the time, I just didn’t care. All that mattered was that I was going to be okay.

I’ve been reflecting on the incident on and off the last few days. I’m trying to process what happened and how it happened – was it my new Metformin that triggered it? Was it stress that I had experienced earlier in the day manifesting itself? I drank one beer before I went to bed, could that have done it? Did I take too much insulin before bed, even though I was certain I hadn’t? Lord knows that it could’ve been any combination of those factors, or none of them…but I can tell you this: I haven’t taken Metformin since it happened out of fear. I’ll talk to my endocrinologist soon and revisit my dosing plan with her. I can also tell you that, even as I continue to process the entire ordeal, I’m feeling so lucky that I was lucid enough to take proper care of myself. I know there are many other T1Ds who can’t say the same and have experienced much more awful low blood sugar incidents, so I’m simply counting my blessings right now.

What would you have done, had you been in my shoes? Would you have called 911, a family member, a friend? Would you have waited it out?

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2 thoughts on “Should I Have Called 911?

  1. Hi Molly! Thanks for sharing. I had the same thought a few months ago when I experienced a night of extreme highs and lows. I kept my phone near me in case I needed to call 911 but never actually did. I didn’t get much sleep but did wake myself up every 30 minutes to ensure I was stable and alive. The lowest I ever had in the middle of the night was 22 mg/dl. This was before I got an insulin pump, and I remember crawling to the kitchen and devouring my roommate’s chocolate cake. I’m always hesitant to call 911 for myself, thinking I’ve got it, but I know from the few hypoglycemic seizures I’ve had, things can change in a split second. I’d be curious to hear what others do. I think it’s hard for me to admit when I can’t handle it on my own (even though I know these incidences often have nothing to do with how well I’m managing it so to speak).

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