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We found 10 result(s) that match your search "lows":

It's safe to say that my blood sugar has been on a roller coaster lately. Actually, it's safer to say I've been at the diabetes theme park over the past, say, two months. Just when I think I have my high blood sugars figured out, I start getting in range again. Which is great, but equally frustrating.
The other day--right around the time I stopped taking Byetta and switched back to Novolog--I noticed myself getting snippy with my family for no reason. I checked the calendar for the day I had last started my period and then counted forward 33 days. Yep, I was just seven days away from that oh-so-happy time. This was also the day I noticed that I seemed to be running lower than I thought I should be. Frankly, I chalked it up to not using Byetta anymore and being able to accurately manage my carb intake with the Novolog. (READ MORE)

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Low blood sugars that happen in the middle of the night really suck! You're dead asleep, and then all of the sudden your dreams start getting confusing and weird. You start feeling like you should probably drag yourself out of bed and get something from your sugar stash. You barely have the energy to get up and then once you do you stumble around and nearly black out. You feel confused and you act and look as though you've had WAY too much to drink. Then after you climb back into bed you just sit there for a while and you try to wait patiently while your sugar goes back up or until you feel good enough to fall back asleep.

Well, that's what happened to me last night, and what I tend to experience almost once a week.
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From the top of a hill overlooking a baseball diamond ,
"I think I'm low."
While playing roller hockey like a Transformer with 15 pounds of equipment ,
"I think I'm low."
While blowing bubbles on the deck ,
"I think I'm low."
From the top of the stairs ,
"I think I'm low."
In the wee hours of the morning while the whole house sleeps ,
"Mom, dad, I think I'm low."
"I think I'm low." "I think I'm low." "I think I'm low." (READ MORE)

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I ran out of my sugar free coffee creamer yesterday and didn't go get more. This morning, instead of using low fat milk and Splenda® in my coffee, I decided I could use my husband's regular flavored creamer. This stuff is 5 grams of sugar per tablespoon. I probably use 2 tablespoons per cup and I had 3 cups. I'm pretty bad at sizing up a tablespoon, so it was probably closer to 7 or 8 tablespoons total. That's 30-40 grams of sugar on an empty stomach.
You can guess what happens next. Suddenly, I can hardly keep my eyes open. I take my kids down to the family room and we all park in front of the TV. Next I'm lying down. I dozed off for about 20 minutes. When I woke up I wondered what had caused this exhaustion. Maybe I had taken ill. It took a few minutes before it dawned on me. (READ MORE)

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Why is it that I can remain much calmer than those around me when it comes to diabetes? I can manage a low with ease, while my mom or my friend will freak out on me. No matter the severity, the past, or the person, it just seems I can keep composure better than them.

 

Last night, my mom and I went out for our usual walk. I had worked out earlier in the day, so I knew my blood sugar would probably be an issue. I cut my insulin back and drank a juice half way through the walk. Not long after, I felt the low coming on full force. It was bad, I knew that. Inside my own mind, I was thinking that I just needed to make it around the next part of the walk so we would be closer to the house.

 

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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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'Twas the night before Christmas and Charlie was low. He hovered in the fifties and sixties three other times that day, as we hosted a family Christmas eve gathering. The seasoned veterans that we are, we took the lows in stride and had a wonderful day. A juicebox here, an extra cookie there and Charlie was back in business. (READ MORE)

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We live in Southern California not too far from "the happiest place on earth." With that, season passes to "The big D" (as we refer to it) are a very good investment for us. We can go during the week after work for a few hours. Ofter we head over after church on Sunday for a few rides and then head home. The kids don't flip out because they know that we can go back when we want to. It works quite well for us and it's a blast!
Except when diabetes shows up in the form of a very scary low.
We made dinner reservations in New Orleans Square and we had to rush from Space Mountain which is on the other side of the park. My sister and her fiance took the lead and my wife and kids brought up the rear. Snaking through a ton of people is the easiest way to move quickly. Single file and move fast. I was at the very back of the line and of course started to feel low. (READ MORE)

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It was still dark when the baby started fussing this morning. I quietly rushed to her room so that neither her crying nor my footsteps on the creaky wood in our century-old house would wake anyone else.
"Shhh, shh, shh," I consoled as I picked her up, bouncing gently hoping she would think it was still nighttime.
Her pointer and middle fingers promptly went into her mouth and she rested her head on my shoulder. Those baby snuggles are something so wonderful. We quietly walked back to my room where we climbed into bed with The Mr. Who was snoring. As usual.
No. 3 settled fairly well for it being around 6 a.m. I knew I should have counted my blessings yesterday when we all slept until almost 8 a.m.
Listening to the rhythmic snoring and the intermittent sound of No. 3 sucking on her fingers, I started to hear my body talking to me, as well. (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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