I had seriously overshot my dinner time bolus. I was at a work dinner, and usually the carbs are abounding at such events so I think I bolused heavy out of habit. Whatever the reason for my error, I’d just finished a huge plate of low carb food and I knew I was dropping like a rock. A finger stick confirmed I was down at 52mg/dL already.
Lovely. I thought to myself. There are two types of lows in this world that make me more pissed off than anything: 1.) Lows during or immediately after a workout (because you have to replace calories you just burned) and 2.) Lows directly after a huge meal (because you are obviously no longer hungry). Grrrr.
Annoyed and upset, I didn’t say a word to my co-workers. I backed out my chair from the table and walked across the restaurant to the main bar. I didn’t want to wait for our server to come by since I was so low. And to be honest, I didn’t feel like explaining why I was low right after dinner, and the fact that it was really just a dumb mistake on my part.
The bar was bustling, and in my low fog I didn’t have the thought to lean over the counter and flag down a bartender with some urgency. But I was standing directly in the pathway of the bartenders access to inside the bar counter, and soon a young waiter zoomed up behind me. His arms and hands were loaded down with dirty plates, empty pitchers, half full waters, and a thousand other items. He literally didn’t have one pinkie free.
“Can I help you?” he said as he breezed past me. His tone revealed mild annoyance, as I was standing directly in his path and his load looked anything but comfortable.
“Yes. I have diabetes and I’m having a low blood sugar. I need a Coke no ice right away please.”
He walked behind the bar. Literally by the laws of physics, gravity, and sheer volume of crap in this guys hands, I do not know how he did what he did next, but he did it. He somehow pulled out a clean glass, grabbed the soda gun, and poured a regular Coke for me in seconds. He had not put down one single item but had somehow delivered my life-saving drink with manuevering that rivaled MacGyver.
He pushed the Coke towards me and smiled.
“I’m diabetic too,” he said.
Then he zipped off to attend to his duties before I had a chance to say thank you.