I didn't sleep enough Wednesday night, so by Thursday afternoon my eyelids were heavy and my body was screaming out "Sleep! Sleep!" So a little after five in the afternoon, I decided to take a quick nap. A little power nap to recharge my batteries before diving into study and cleaning mode to prepare for the coming weekend.

My blood sugar was at 222 with only a little active insulin. I'd been high in the early afternoon and hadn't accurately bolused for a late lunch. I decided to leave it alone until after my nap though...giving my body an hour or two to use that remaining insulin and peak out.

I curled up in bed with my cat and a good book...falling asleep within a few minutes. It was a dreamless sleep...too deep to notice the world around me or the world inside me. A limitless fatigue overwhelming every inch of my body and soul. The effects of ineffective sleeping and the recent change in medications. (READ MORE)

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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Considering the many battles that I fight with diabetes on any given day, I'm always pleased when things work out. I love success, in any shape or form. But especially in my diabetes world.

So Saturday night while I was visiting my dad, aunt and uncle, we decided to get Chinese food from a local restaurant (the best Chinese in all of Texas, I promise). I was definitely excited, but also silently stressing about how many carbs might be in my meal. Restaurant food is always hard to judge, but especially when it's something like Chinese at a small town joint that doesn't have carb counts available.

As I ordered my meal, I began to mentally guess the carbs. I'd splurged with my favorite: Sweet and Sour Chicken. It came with an eggroll and steamed rice. I was starting out my meal at 140, so whatever the carb count I'd need to add an extra unit to buffer the out of range blood sugar.

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Two nights in a row, I have woken up at 50 or below. I treat. Then several hours later when my alarm goes off, my blood sugar has skyrocketed to 240 or above. This is the usual pattern when I fall low while I am sleeping.

I know exactly why this peak is happening, although I am not certain I want to change it. Considering my history with night and early morning lows, those lows really scare the living daylights out of me. I am scared of another seizure, or worse.

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Diabetes has had us back on our heels and off-balance since school started. Charlie has had very high blood sugars. In turn, we're doing a lot of guessing. Guessing is not a great strategy when dealing with a major disease. Such is life with diabetes.

It is during these times that diabetes likes to send a message. It likes to bring you down to size and remind you that you're not in control. Just as we were about to make changes to deal with the constant highs, the unexpected sound of panic lifts me from my chair.

"Carey! Juice box now!!! He's very low!!!"

I pop from my chair like a firefighter responding to an alarm and grab two juice boxes. I can hear Susanne's voice growing louder as I make my way upstairs.

"CHARLIE! CHARLIE! I NEED YOU TO WAKE UP!"

"CHARLIE!" (READ MORE)

alexwindsormusic

I woke up at six this morning to sweaty sheets, shaking and that feeling in my stomach. I checked my blood sugar: 48. I attempted to swing my legs out of bed, but couldn't find the strength. So I grabbed the emergency kit under my bed and downed the glucose tabs. I think I ended up eating eight or nine of them. I wasn't really counting. I was telling myself, "Eat the sugar. Don't pass out." Not at all concerned about the blood sugar after treating the low. (READ MORE)