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

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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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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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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I don't even know where to start this post. Should I tell you first how I started to fell sick after dinner last night and how my blood sugar was on the low side until this morning or how I nearly fainted at the pediatrician's office this afternoon?

 

I think I'll start from the beginning. Because, really, the best part is the near-fainting and why would I want to tell you all about that first without telling you what lead up to it?

 

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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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So at the end of the first part of this post I was eating popcorn. I threw in some York peppermint patty pieces for a little holiday variety. My tummy was feeling better and while I had bolused for the cereal and some of the popcorn my sugar shot up to over 300 mg/dL before I knew it. I bolused again thinking I had underestimated carbs.

 

And then I left the office early to pick up the kids: the girls had their well child visits and No. 1 needed to see the orthodontist to have his retainer tightened. I continued to monitor Dex and while I had finally started to drop it seemed manageable and I felt fine.

 

Let me just say right now how much I adore our pediatrician's office. They are so thorough and take so much time to listen to what's going on and address every issue. Knowing that, it's no surprise that we were there nearly two hours this afternoon.

 

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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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A stayed with me for what seemed like forever, but was probably 10ish minutes. The kids' doctor, Dr. N, came in and stayed with me just as long. V was in and out offering help where she could.

 

A gave me SweeTarts. Then juice. We all talked about my pump and diabetes and Dex. We all watched the line on Dex continue to go low. And I kept saying this isn't about my blood sugar. I've never felt faint from a low before and I didn't have any of my other tell-tale low signs.

 

Dr. N asked if I had had diarrhea lately. Well, actually yes, I told her. She speculated that I was fighting something off. It started to make sense. I mean, I shot up to 300 practically without notice and in what seemed like a matter of minutes.

 

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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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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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