What it Feels Like to Have Low Blood Sugar

December 29, 2017December 26, 2017 mollyt1d7 Comments

Diabetes evokes curiosity for those who are not familiar with it. I’ve been asked many questions over the years – can you eat sweets, does it hurt when you give yourself shots, do you have to protect your pump from water, just to name a few – all relatively easy-to-answer, yes-or-no questions. But every now and then, someone will ask harder questions. And one that I’ve struggled to answer in a succinct manner is: What does it feel like to have low blood sugar?

There isn’t really a simple answer. I guess my textbook response is to rattle off a list of common hypoglycemic symptoms: shakiness, dizziness, sweating, slurred speech, weakness. But I know that other PWD experience slightly different symptoms, such as feeling cold instead of sweaty, or drastic changes in personality. And there are even some PWD who don’t experience any symptoms due to hypoglycemia unawareness.

So how exactly do I response to a question like that, one that’s more loaded than it appears?

lowbg — A graphical representation of a sudden low – I guarantee I was not feeling great when this one hit.

I could tell the asker to imagine feeling simultaneously ravenous and disoriented. I could tell them to picture walking into the kitchen and feeling like inhaling the entire contents of the pantry – that’s how intensely your body craves sugar.

I could tell them to think about what it’s like to wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat. It might seem like a reaction to a nightmare, but it’s the body trying to convey a message that is, by some miracle, supposed to be grasped by someone who was just trying to get a solid night’s sleep.

I could tell them to envision feeling like energy is sapped out of every pore in the body abruptly, with little warning.

I could tell them that sometimes, it results in pure panic, particularly when no fast-acting carbohydrates are on hand or when no one is around to help you.

I could tell them that low blood sugar is one of the biggest sources of anxiety for many PWD, that it causes a deeply rooted fear. That it can sometimes lead to a PWD making unhealthy choices just to avoid a low from happening in the first place.

I could say all of this to anyone who asked me this question – and I still don’t think it would completely convey what it’s like to have low blood sugar.

How would you describe it to someone asking you about it? Would you use the terse medical explanation, or would you try to talk about how it really feels?

Leave your responses in the comments – I’d like to know how you handle this. And if you thought this was an interesting post, let me know. I’m thinking of doing a series about how I answer the more complicated diabetes-related questions I’m asked.

The Emotional Roller Coaster (Otherwise Known as High Blood Sugar)

December 7, 2017December 3, 2017 mollyt1d2 Comments

I tested three times in the span 60 seconds the other night.

Why?

High blood sugar.

That was the culprit. For five hours, I was high – over 300 mg/dL, to be exact. I still can’t quite explain how it happened. I didn’t eat more than my usual amount of carbohydrates at dinner. I didn’t deviate at all from my mealtime routine; the only thing that maybe affected this was the fact that I had to change my pod that night.

But still. It was maddening, sitting there and watching my blood sugar climb and stick to the 300s. I did everything I should do to correct it: increase my temp basal, take corrective boluses, drink water, refrain from eating. And yet, the high persisted. All I wanted to do was go to sleep, but I was afraid to. Yes, afraid to get the rest that my body needed! That’s what diabetes does sometimes – it instills fear that you can’t shake until those numbers change the way that you need for them to. It’s paralyzing; it’s helplessness in its purest form.

It’s why I ended up stacking my boluses that night, even though I knew it might not be a smart call. But I was so stuck in the high 200s and low 300s. What else was I supposed to do? I even tested THREE times in 60 seconds because I thought that my meter was wrong. I desperately wanted it to show that I was coming down, and felt tears sting my eyes when I realized it wasn’t. I had no choice but to wait some more, so I made myself comfortable in bed and watched the Gilmore Girls (because a nonstop dialogue and excellently obscure pop culture references are good for the soul). I could only get semi-absorbed in Lorelai and Rory’s back-and-forth banter though, because my mind was otherwise occupied by the nagging high blood sugars.

AE7904C6-733F-468F-9901-454AD509D4F9 — I couldn’t help testing over and over again, hoping for any sort of positive change.

Finally, I saw that I was coming down to the mid-200s shortly before 11:30 P.M. I decided it was safe to close my eyes. But I didn’t dare do so until I set an alarm for about an hour from then, just so I could continue to monitor my blood sugar. I woke up when it blared, and let out a massive sigh of relief when my CGM showed I was floating down to 150 mg/dL.

I fell back asleep only to wake up again, two hours later: This time, it was because of a low blood sugar. I tested, saw that I was 67, and corrected it. But falling asleep wasn’t as easy this time around. Again, I felt fear – what if I continued to drop down? What if I corrected too much? I was so emotionally exhausted and consumed by the feeling that it took me well over an hour to drift back to sleep.

When I woke for work the next morning, I was 148. The evening’s episode was over. But my head was spinning as I did my best to analyze what I could and should have done better.

And this is when I told myself to stop. I had to stop beating myself up and going over every choice I made. I had to remind myself I did the best I could in that moment, and that should be enough. It is enough.

I pick myself up, dust myself off, and move on.

Hypoglycemia Strikes Again

October 12, 2017October 2, 2017 mollyt1dLeave a comment

I rolled over onto my stomach and groggily opened my eyes. I checked the time – 1:30 A.M. I felt beads of sweat form on my forehead and back. I kicked my blankets off my body just as I heard my CGM vibrate: five urgent, successive buzzes, a grating sound. I knew what it meant without looking at the screen. My blood sugar was low, and I had to do something about it.

Blindly, I groped around in the dark, my arm hanging off my bed as I searched the floor for my purse. Once I located it, I rummaged through the inside, looking for a miniature box of raisins that I knew would boost my blood glucose up. I found them and ate them quickly, sitting upright in bed. As I chewed, I registered the sensation that occurs once in a blue moon with these middle-of-the-night lows…

…Raging hunger.

It’s that feeling that you have when your blood sugar gets below a certain point.

That feeling of utter starvation.

That feeling that deprives you of good common sense.

That feeling that forces you to get out of bed, even though the rational part of your mind just wants you to go back to sleep.

Damn it. I’ve succumbed to it, again.

It’s not like this happens every time I have a low at ungodly hours of the morning. In fact, it probably only happens to me four or five times throughout the year. Maybe because I fight against it so hard, since I know that it’ll lead to nothing but high blood sugar and regret.

These thoughts cross my mind, but it’s fleeting. I make my way down the stairs, pausing to grab my bathrobe to keep me warm (the sweating will stop soon and it will be replaced by nonstop chills). Hey, at least I have enough logic at this moment in time to remember the BATHROBE of all things!!!

I turn the light on in the kitchen, blinking rapidly to clear the sleep from my eyes. And then I raid the cabinets.

Fistfuls of Smart Food popcorn are devoured one minute, and in the next, I’m swallowing spoonfuls of crunchy peanut butter (my dear, delicious vice). I take a pinch of Parmesan from the fridge and a tiny tower of Toasteds crackers to complete my smorgasbord. I wash it all down with sparkling water and remove myself from the kitchen before I can do any more damage.

I don’t know what’s more sad – the fact that I gave in to these carnal hunger pangs even though I knew my blood sugar would be fine after having the raisins, or that my snacking was absurdly out of control for 1:30 in the morning. Truly, the knowledge that I must’ve consumed close to 400 calories – roughly how much I eat at lunchtime each day – was disgusting to me.

I could blame it on my lack of self-control. I could blame it on the early morning hours and my sleepy state. I could blame it on the peanut butter for being so addicting.

But instead of beating myself up for a snack attack in the witching hours, I’ll just accept it happened and blame it on the hypoglycemia for striking me when I was vulnerable. It happened, it’s over, it’s time to move on and try harder next time.