Thursday night, I decided to stay up a little too late (or early, we shall say). My mother always warned me when I was younger to monitor my blood sugars closely when I threw my sleep cycle off. I never figured out why, because I always seemed to be fine. What does me being a night owl have to do with blood sugars?

But Thursday night was an extreme. I didn't get to bed until just before the sun was rising. I made sure to sleep in as long as possible (and managed 6 hours of sleep) just to make it through the day ahead of me.

I had checked my blood sugar several hours before going to bed, clocking in at 141. No bolus (I like my pre-sleep numbers to be between 120 and 150). But I hadn't checked just prior to falling asleep (in my defense, I felt fine and was very busy).

So when I woke up the next morning, I wasn't really expecting a crazy number. Somehow, diabetes had thrown a curve ball though that left me at 434. When I saw the number, I nearly fell over. Why in the world? I texted a friend to share my shock. The only explanation we could come up with was that the cheesecake I had eaten the night before spiked sometime after 2am. Add in not getting normal rest and you had a beautiful (excruciating) high blood sugar.

I bolused with my pump the full 8.0 recommended units. I decided to test in an hour to verify I was on the decline and it wasn't a pump malfunction. I hoped I'd see a prettier number and could carry on with a normal day.

I went through my normal morning routine. I checked emails, paid bills, laid out my clothes, and fed the cat. Because of the high, I drank two bottles of water to insure potential ketones would be on their way out by mid morning. I wasn't nauseous. Not very foggy either.

An hour later, I went into the kitchen to grab a low carb breakfast and check my blood sugar again. Before I could even make it to the fridge, my head started reeling. My hearing was going in and out. The earth was spinning out of control. I figured I was dropping too fast, but I grabbed a juice anyway.

I felt a blackout coming full force, so I layed in the middle of my kitchen floor. I checked my blood sugar and was shocked by the 49 that peered back at me. What? How? The symptoms weren't lying though.

I struggled with the juice box, fighting to get the straw past the foil protection. Even then, I could barely get the juice to my mouth. I layed there, hoping that I wouldn't pass out. I pulled another juice from the fridge and quickly gulped it down.

The world kept spinning as I texted two friends to tell them what was going on. Thoughts raced through my head. "What if I seized? What if I pass out and don't wake up? Someone needs to know. Someone should come help. The door is locked, how will they get in?"

After about ten minutes of mapping out what might happen to me, I checked my blood sugar again to find 83 on the screen. I gathered the strength to get off the floor and microwaved some rice.

Luckily, this time I didn't need to know what would happen if I passed out. But what will happen next time makes me wonder. When will my luck run out?