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We found 10 result(s) that match your search "low blood sugar":

The feeling came on pretty fast this morning as I was walking through the cafeteria at work.

 

My thighs shook like unsteady legs of an old, wooden table supporting the weight of a rhinoceros. There was a tremor throughout my whole body. I felt the same heat on my shoulder blades and forehead that I get when I'm forced to introduce myself publicly to a large circle of strangers. I was starving.

 

It's not very often that I get a taste of what Charlie goes through with low blood sugars. I've been Gazellin' like a felon and dieting since January, trying to lose about 15-20 pounds. Almost half-way there. Maybe I was taking it too hard-core with my miniscule breakfast of a few sliced almonds and raisins.

 

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I think one of the things I hate most about my diabetes is that I never seem to follow any patterns. It seems like other people have these stable highs and lows, where it's so much easier to adjust basals or carb intake. But me...my body has a freaking mind of its own!

 

Before bed last night, my blood sugar was at 159. For me, I'm very comfortable with that number right before bed. It says that I won't wake up too high, but I probably won't drop in the middle of the night either. But I'd just jumped from 103 to 159 after a post-low snack (you know, the snack you eat after you've had the juice about an hour before). So I decided to bolus anyway.

 

About 4:30am, I woke up with a panic in my gut and a clammy feeling washing over my skin. The CGMS beeped at me LOW! I know! I tested. Sure enough, 60. I treated with 15 grams of orange juice and about 15 grams in graham crackers. Then I went back to sleep.

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I've been hit! I've been hit! I called out sick for second straight day. My wife has me quarantined in my 8-year-old daughter's room since she has already been contaminated after seven straight days. I know I'm feeling a little loopy from the medication, but if Zac Efron and Harry Potter keep staring at me all sexylike, I swear I'm gonna pop them both in the jaw.
On to the Mad Libs. The submissions were fantastic! Great words, everyone. Thanks for playing. I should note that I did take the liberty of striking a minor two lines from my original Mad Lib because it just didn't work well at all. So, a couple of your words didn't make the final cut. Sorry about that. They were all so good, I plan to post each one. So, if you don't see yours in this post, look for it in the coming days.

Treating Low Blood Sugars
From Becky: (READ MORE)

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It woke me up just before 2 a.m.

 

I was uncomfortable and confused; hot.

 

The Mr. was sleeping soundly next to me, but I didn't have the strength to shake him awake.

 

My heart was pounding like a cartoon character in love -- in and out of my chest.

 

I felt like I was hyperventilating.

 

Finally awake and aware of what was happening to me, I eyed my meter; it was just an arm's length away but felt so, so far.

 

I tried to reach for it, but my arms flopped around like the bones and muscles had been removed.

 

So tired. I just wanted to sleep. I felt like a coma.

 

The Mr. was still sleeping and I still didn't have the strength to shake him awake.

 

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The other night my wife, kids, and I went over to my sister's house for dinner.

Upon arriving we realized we had forgotten a crucial ingredient for the dish my wife was bringing. (Cheese-if you are wondering!)

My wife and I took a quick trip to local grocery store to pick up the cheese and possible get something for dessert. This was not the original plan but it seemed like a good idea to me!

We went into the store and quickly found the cheese she needed.

"Alright, let's go," my wife said assuming we were done!

"Um, I was thinking we should get dessert." I said it with that smile she cannot resist or at least, she makes me think so.

"Alright, what do you want?"

And this is when I freeze up. I have no clue what to get.

"Maybe just some cookies. That sounds good."

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Lows come in all shapes and sizes. They come with grueling symptoms or no symptoms at all. They come with reason and purpose, and other times with no cause in sight. Sometimes they're short-lived and sometimes they linger for hours. For me, lows come in several forms:

 

The worst kind, the night low: Night lows for me come sometime between 2am and 6am. Usually it's a reading in the 50's or 40's that wakes me from a deep sleep. I wake with panic in my heart, it pounds in my chest. My body coated in sweat, the sheets damp under me. And an overwhelming weakness that leaves my knees shaking in the darkness. For me, this is the worst low because I have a history of seizures. I'm deathly afraid that one of these lows won't wake me or I won't catch it in time. Glucagon stashed by my bed does nothing to quell the fear. The only peace of mind is having someone close by listening for the sounds of a low.

 

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"So what should we take with us in the RV," I asked No. 3 as I drove her to the sitter one day last week.

 

"Um, cereawl and hot dogs and... um... oh! your blood sugar."

 

"Yes, my blood sugar supplies," I said almost as if I had forgotten.

 

"And skeetles and juice for you," she said.

 

"Yes, in case I go low. You're right." Such a good caregiver.

 

I forgot so many things packing for the RV trip, but insulin, pump supplies, test strips and alcohol swabs were not one of them. I was surprised, actually.

 

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There really just is no way to describe the way an extreme low feels. It was surreal, like I was outside of myself; like I was watching myself through a camera mounted on my head--that carnival ride-like feeling you get when you watch a video of someone, say, walking through the woods from their point of view; like part of me was asleep while the conscious part of me fought like mad to make things right.
I saw the 29 and while I almost immediately pulled the strip out of the meter, for just a second I thought the number was the code for the strips. I, obviously, wasn't thinking clearly.
"29," I said to The Mr. (READ MORE)

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To say we hit it out of the park with Charlie's new health aide would be an understatement. I was totally wrong. She does have experience testing blood sugar and she has seen a pump. Turns out she has type 2 diabetes!  Go diabetes!

We hit a hole in one. We knocked the cover off the ball. We laid down a full house. Scored a touchdown. Sorry. Been watching too much coverage of the National Conventions. I can't stop with the sports analogies. But seriously, folks, we really slogged a dibbly dobbly (a little somethin' for the cricket lovers).

What perfect timing. The aide is calling us as I sit here writing this. Let's listen in ...

(hushed chanting while Susanne talks to the aide) "We're number 1! We're number 1! We're numb ..."

Wait what? Can we rewind that?

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