Trying to Outwalk a Low Blood Sugar

I was a mile into my regular morning walk when the beeps started.

Dammit.

The beeps were coming from my Dexcom app on my phone and they were alerting me to a low blood sugar. Rather than correcting the low, though, or even opening up the app to dismiss the alarm, I just kept walking.

Outwalk the low blood sugar, Molly.

Outwalking a low blood sugar is easier said than done.

I really couldn’t understand why my blood sugar was low in the first place considering that I had no food in my system or insulin on board (other than my standard basal rate). Fasting workouts tend to virtually guarantee stable blood sugars for me, which is wonderful because otherwise exercise tends to make me crash. But what was different about this morning? I was utterly befuddled. My Dexcom alarm chimed a second time.

Outwalk the low blood sugar, Molly.

Even more confusing was my complete and utter determination to not treat the low blood sugar until I got home. I had glucose tablets on me, so it’s not like it was a matter of lacking a treatment. Rather, I think I was more focused on maintaining my fasted state for as long as possible, since I almost always do an exercise circuit (weight lifting, cardio training, HIIT intervals, etc.) when I return home from my morning walks. My low alarm rang a third time, just as loudly as it had before.

Outwalk the low blood sugar. You’re only 15 minutes from home.

I was deaf to my Dexcom’s persistent alarms for the next 15 minutes as I somewhat floundered down the road home, letting my impatient puppy tug me along. It’s almost like she knew that I was low and was trying to hurry me home, and I was 100% okay with that because my brain was starting to get fuzzy.

Outwalk the low blood sugar…

At long last, nearly half an hour after my first low alarm sounded, I was crossing the threshold of my front door and fishing my phone from my bag. I tapped through my notifications and cleared the low alert, noting that I was 66 mg/dL and definitely needed to eat something before continuing on with my morning routine. I sighed, set my sight on the kitchen (where a low blood sugar food stash awaited me), and resigned myself to the fact that I couldn’t outwalk the low blood sugar this time.

The Possible Pod Failure, or “Do You Hear What I Hear?”

Judging by the title of this blog post, you might assume that I’m rewriting yet another Christmas song to make it about diabetes. Well, I’m here to tell you that is false – no more Christmas carol transformations for me! (At least, not until Christmas 2019.)

Rather, this post is all about an odd, kind of silly thing that happened to my mother and I when we were out on a walk with Clarence, my parents’ dog.

We both heard a high-pitched beeping coming from…somewhere.

We exchanged glances and my mom asked me if I heard that sound. I nodded, and we both sighed as we fished through our pockets for our PDMs. That’s because we both justΒ knew that one of us was experiencing a pod failure, and that the pressing of a couple buttons would reveal who was about to become extremely annoyed.

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My walking buddies, moments after the false alarm.

But both of our PDMs indicated that our pods were working just fine. Bemused, she told me that sometimes her PDM won’t recognize the pod failure right away, and it will be the pod itself that emits the beep-of-dread. So I started lifting up layers of my heavy winter clothing to see if my pod was making the sound, while she briefly stopped walking to listen closer to her pod.

After our careful scrutiny, we determined that…

…the beeping sound was actually someone using a weed whacker or some other piece of lawn-care equipment in the distance. Oops.

We continued our walk, chuckling a bit about it while Clarence pranced along in between us. It was a relief to know that we wouldn’t have to scramble home so one of us could take out insulin and a fresh pod to apply as soon as possible.

What’s the point of sharing this little vignette? To show that diabetes is such a significant part of our lives, always one of our first thoughts, even in the most mundane cases. It also illustrates how volatile diabetes can be – just like that, a random beep can change the course of the day and determine your next series of actions.

Just some food for thought, all triggered by a (literally) false alarm.