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

Pancreas: Ahem, hey Michelle I think you need to check your sugar.
Me: Nah, I'm OK.
Pancreas: No, really, I know that I don't really work and all that, but, uh, you should take a second and check.
Me: Seriously dude, I'm fine.
Pancreas: Look, you were 110 about an hour ago and about 90 minutes before that you were 122. So, uh, considering that you're shaking and all, I think it would be wise for you to stop and check your sugar.
Me: Look, yourself PUNK! I'm busy and I don't want to.
Pancreas: Michelle, serious--
Me: Would you shut up already! I'm focused on this right now. I want to do this at this moment. I want to be finished doing what I'm doing so I can move on to something else. I ordered pizza tonight so I didn't have to cook so I could have enough time to do what I'm doing right. at. this. moment.
Pancreas: Bu-- (READ MORE)

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When Charlie started school, I just knew he'd provide me with plenty of material to blog about. Which is good, because we do have our dry spells when he's not doing anything particularly diabetish.
A good journalist goes out and gets the story even when there seemingly isn't one.
"Come on, Charlie, I've got a story to write! Do a little something diabetic for daddy for heaven's sake! Anything!"
"OK, here's the scene: You're blood sugar is pretty high. You're super mad at the world and you don't know why. Maybe you'd like to destroy something of emotional and monetary value? Mommy's English bone china tea cups perhaps? What? Did you hear that? I think the green cup just said you wear pink underpants." (READ MORE)

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I can remember the time when I had my worst low blood sugar. As diabetics, we all have a "hypoglycemia story". Some instances stand out more than others. Some of us can't recall our bad moments because we were probably passed out from being so low. I can actually say, proudly I might add, that I have never once lost consciousness in all my 13 years of living with this "AWESOME" (sarcasm) disease. I have never actually had to use the infamous glucagon kit. However, that's not to say that I haven't had some darn scary times. (READ MORE)

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If I had stomped my foot, I would have been acting just like them.
Looking at my 7-year-old and my just-turned-5-year-old, I was ranting about their ridiculous behavior.
"So what if she's looking at you?" I screamed.
"And why are you antagonizing him?" I yelled.
This was really odd behavior for me, I thought. Just an hour ago I was grocery shopping at WalMart with the baby and thinking about what good spirits I was in. I was feeling so happy that I was actually contemplating a post on how my walking routine was helping my attitude.
Grabbing the last few things in the produce section, I leaned down to look at something. When I stood up, I suddenly felt, for lack of a better word, weird. It wasn't my normal I-think-I'm-going-low feeling, so I chalked it up to a head rush. (READ MORE)

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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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A pilot in Denton, Texas, made an emergency landing near a freeway yesterday because he felt lightheaded. Only one media source stated he was diabetic. Yet the article made every major newspaper in the area.

 

Thursday, I drove down the highway in rush hour traffic digging through my bag and eating everything I had with me. As I stuffed the glucose tabs into my mouth, I sat wondering about my fellow drivers. Were any of them diabetic? Had they driven this low before? Would they be mad because I was driving low (granted we didn't reach speeds above 15 mph)?

 

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Driving over the highway on a route I usually don't take I was thinking about the letter I had just drafted to the bank that holds our mortgage in Missouri. I was pleading with the bank president because we see no hope for selling that house and even if we do we won't recoup the money we've put into it in the last 15 months.

 

I had butterflies. I felt strange. I felt light and heavy. It was a weird feeling considering how confident I felt as I was writing the letter. That's when it dawned on me that I actually felt low. It wasn't about the letter after all.

 

I try not to test while I'm driving -- especially on the highway -- but as soon as I realized what was happening I knew I needed to test right that second.

 

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Both of my doctors, my endocrinologist and the doctor in charge of my bio-identical treatment, have sent disability status letters for me. It actually took very little effort, despite the initial feedback from the nurses in the beginning. I'm happy to get these out of the way and go forward with the process. I'll also be writing my own letter to support my case with a personal note.

 

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Late Friday night, The Mr. came to bed and snuggled up close to me.
"You scared me this afternoon," he said quietly into my ear.
I had been asleep for some time, but his footsteps woke me. Or perhaps I was sleeping lightly.
"I know," I said. "I was scared, too."
We shared one of those moments Friday afternoon that makes you see so many things in a different way, makes you appreciate even more the people who are there for you.
That morning, I had been feeling a little down about some things. After dropping off No. 2 at the sitter after preschool, I called The Mr. just to chat, but he could hear it in my voice and asked me to come by his office.
"You seem really down," he said hugging me.
"I am," I said. (READ MORE)

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My fellow blogger Nicole Purcell, wrote an amazing entry the other day called, How Do Our Bodies Do It? She captivates very brilliantly what it is like to experience a severe late night episode of hypoglycemia. Some of us, fortunately, have never had an experience quite like the one she describes. Others are all too familiar with them. Speaking for myself, I am one of the fortunate ones, who has only been dangerously low a handful of times. I have never been injected with a glucagon shot and I've never really lost consciousness due to a low. But still, I could definitely relate to her experience because I can recall the episodes where I was just so unbelievably out of it. But her post got me thinking of the time when I was a camp counselor at a children's diabetic camp.
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