Every once in a while, something happens with your diabetes that you can’t quite believe. And you should believe it, because diabetes is one unpredictable, sneaky SOB, but for whatever reason, it’s still surprising.
Like going from a BG of 303mg/dL to 46mg/dL in an hour. Which is what happened to me on Saturday. I was heading to a book signing for my brother in law (which is a whole other blog post but his book is AWESOME and if you have a reading-age kid this would be a great Christmas present for them!) and I checked my blood sugar before getting the car. I was surprised to see that I was up in the 300s because I’d bolused for a 286mg/dL an hour before. I reached back and pressed on my pump pod and it felt a little painful. I was due to change it out that day at 5pm, so I figured there must be a cannula issue going on. I pulled out my back up syringe and injected five units. I didn’t have time to change my pump pod that second or I’d be late to the book signing. I figured the bolus would help me trend down for the next hour and then I could change my pump after the event.
The book signing was awesome. I loved watching the excited kids walk up to my brother-in- law with their books. They’d suddenly get a little shy as they realized they were in the presence of the author, and they’d politely and quietly ask if he’d sign their copy, the excitement returning to their faces as they received their newly-signed copy.
As the event wrapped up though, I could feel something was off. I was a little light headed and feeling that general sense of “out of it.” I walked up to my friends and plunked my purse down on the child-height bookcase in front of me (we were in the kids section of the library).
“I feel funny” I said to no one in particular.
“You feel funny?” asked my friend. “Time to check in on the blood sugar?” she asked.
“Yeah. But I can’t possibly be low right now. I was running super high this morning for no reason and there’s no way I could already be low. I took insulin for it like only an hour ago.”
As I was talking I had already pulled out my meter and lanced my finger and placed the blood on the strip. When 46mg/dL popped up on the screen, I wanted to tell the meter “You must be effing kidding,” but I quickly realized that it was an inanimate object and that it was not kidding and telling it so wouldn’t fix that blood sugar any faster. I whipped out a pack of GU from my purse and sucked it down. We finished up at the book signing and I piled into the car with my friends to head to lunch.
I slumped down in the front seat and sighed, starting to come up from the low but feeling rocked.
“Poor Rudy,” my best friend said to me, using the nickname she’d given me years ago that would take an entire other blog post to explain how it came about.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked kindly while rubbing my shoulder.
“No,” I told her. “It will come back up, just need a few minutes.”
“Ok.” she said “Just let me know if you need anything else. Otherwise we’ll just wait it out together.”
Even though my best friend doesn’t have diabetes, she’s been my best friend for almost as long as diabetes has been in my life. And the best part is that she knows that sometimes, you just want someone to be there with you. They don’t have to say anything or do anything in particular. Just being there and being patient and sitting through those crappy moments with you is sometimes the best thing someone can do for you. Guess that’s why she’s my best friend