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

Everything seems to be all over the place lately. Despite catching up on school work and actually de-stressing this week, my blood sugars are bouncing like rubber balls in an airplane bin. My averages are up, yet I'm having rashes of severe lows. And by severe, I don't mean symptoms. I mean numbers and hypoglycemic unawareness.

 

Like last Thursday night, I cooked chili for a friend. Ate a giant bowl with cornbread, bolused for what I expected was way too little, and went on my way. Only to feel an urge to test a few hours later. No symptoms, just something in my brain saying that I should bite the bullet to test. And that urging left me staring at a 37. How?

 

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My blood sugars have been rocky in the last few days. I haven't made any insulin or exercise changes, but I've been staying fairly "low." And this evening, I hit rock bottom.

 

Most of my blood sugars have been in the 120's, which I'll take any day of the week. There have been a few 160's and an episode of 200's during my workout on Tuesday, but mostly I'm doing okay. Yet the bad lows are back.

 

Last night, I had a 56 a few hours before bed. And after juice and crackers, I was only 92. So I ate about 25 grams of LifeSavers and hoped for the best. Only to wake up to a 58. I ate breakfast, did insulin for the extra carbs, and headed to class.

 

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Like many in the diabetes community, my wife and I were pretty disturbed when we heard the premise of Hannah Montana's "No Sugar, Sugar" episode that was scheduled to air last night.

 

The episode tackles the issue of juvenile diabetes, but not as we know it to be. A major, recurring character on the show gets diabetes. Oliver, one of Miley's best friends, is ashamed at first and tries to hide his disease from his friends.

 

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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.

 

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A topic came up on one of the diabetesteentalk forums which got me thinking. The topic was about how diabetics miss days from school or work because of doctor's appointments, seizures or ketones. There were alternating perspectives. Some chose to think that if you miss for diabetes related events, you should be excused or allowed time off without feeling guilty. Others chose to think that you have to suffer through at work or school and should not miss because of diabetes. After all, it is a self managed disease. (READ MORE)

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I touched the top of my forehead and felt the sudden wetness of perspiration as I walked down the stairs. My head felt light and loose as if it dangled from a marionette string. Strange. It wasn't hot in the house. I felt an overwhelming feeling of tingly ickiness throughout my whole body as I stood there sweating and vibrating and wanting to quickly get to the nearest chair.
I've tested Charlie's blood sugar thousands of times, but doing my own felt awkward as I searched for the right angle. After some difficulty, I managed to squeeze a drop of blood from my finger and scoop up enough for a reading. Sure enough, I was 66. (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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It is dark. Black, really. There is no light anywhere. And there is no sound. There is nothing. Nothing but nothing.
This stunning blackness, this lack of light and sound, scares me concious. And I am in my bed. With an empty glass of juice in my hand. My right index finger slides, slimey, against the plastic cup, wet with blood.
Nothing makes sense. Bob's voice is the first thing I'm able to hear. "You need to test."
"I already tested," I answer, "Can't you see the blood?"
"You poked yourself, but you didn't test," He replies, "Come on, it's been about twenty minutes since you finished that juice."
"Was it bad?" I ask.
"Not as bad as it's been. You took the juice fine, no spitting, no screaming, no fighting. It was scary though, because you didn't say a word. It was like you were asleep with your eyes wide open." (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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I have vivid dreams. When I close my eyes at night, a whole new world appears, in living color. My dreams hold smells and sounds and sights that often rival the sensory reality of my waking life. There have been times when I could swear I've seen people, had conversations, and done things in real life, when these memories were simply creations of my sleeping mind. I know that I talk, run, laugh, and cry while I sleep; something that makes sharing a bed with me a real challenge. I suppose that the vividness of my dreams might be a reflection of the constant activity in my brain. (READ MORE)

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