Scary Low . . .

Usually lows don't bother me. Usually my body handles them really well. Usually I eat a little something or drink a little juice and everything is okay.  Usually.

Sunday night was not usual.  Sunday night was damn scary.

Much of it is very foggy.  I remember sitting in bed with my pump and meter.  I couldn't quite figure out what my pump was.  I kept turning it over and around, trying to figure out which end was the top and which was the bottom.  I kept pressing buttons but none of the screens made sense.  I also didn't know how to turn on my meter or what it was supposed to do.  Pete was wide awake beside me, telling me it was okay and I should drink my juice.  I told him I couldn't, but thank goodness I drank it anyway.  He said I kept saying I didn't know what happens next.  I think I resisted drinking the juice because even though I was confused I knew that I generally stay away from juice because it raises my blood sugar.  I also think when I kept saying I didn't know what happens next I was trying to say that I knew I had to punch the carbs from the juice into my pump and bolus but I couldn't figure out how to do it.  Out of frustration, I kept begging Pete to show me how to work the buttons.  He calmly told me he didn't know how and that I should just relax and drink the juice.

I remember I kept disconnecting my pump because I didn't know how to work it.  Then I would reconnect it because I knew I'm always supposed to wear it.  Pete ran downstairs and got a spoonful of frosting for me to eat.  I suddenly decided I had to check my blood.  Pete said it was a bit soon to test again but to go ahead and do it anyway.  Some how I managed to remember how to work the meter.  The screen flashed 33.  Somewhere in my mind, that number seemed familiar.  I guess I was starting to come out of the fog, because I asked for another juice box.

After I downed that, things really started to clear up.  I could remember how to work my pump as well as my meter.  According to Pete, I had woken him up and told him I needed help.  (Thank goodness for that!!)  According to my CGM log, my low alarm went off at 10:51 telling me I was 55.  It rang again at 11:12 to say I was 41.  At 11:31 it reported that I was below 40.  I don't remember hearing or clearing any of those alarms - I just remember dreaming about being on Cape Cod.  According to my meter, I tested my blood sugar at 11:35 and it was 33.  That's why the number 33 seemed familiar when I did the second test at 11:46 and was still at 33.

Once the fog cleared, I realized I was soaked with sweat.  The chills hit hard and my teeth started chattering.  I was pretty freaked out by what had just happened.  I felt terrible for disrupting Pete's sleep on a work night and for frightening him so badly with my incoherent ramblings.  At midnight we tested again and I was up to 49, and three hours later I was 172.

I can't tell you how lucky and blessed I feel that Pete was there.  I am so proud of how calm he stayed through the whole thing.  He held it together and did everything right.  He was *thisclose* to calling for an ambulance when the fog cleared and I started making sense again.  I can't imagine how scary the whole thing was for him.

Yesterday I was wiped out and freaked out all day long.  Pete called me several times more than he usually does to check on me.  Every time I heard his voice, I started to cry.  From gratitude for what a wonderful care-giver he is.  From guilt for putting him through such a terrifying situation in the middle of the night.  From pure exhaustion that made me more emotional than usual.

I've always handled low numbers well.  A few weeks ago I woke up with a blood sugar below 20.  I know, because I tested three times to confirm.  13, 19, 16 were the numbers my meter reported back.  I was sweaty, but clear-headed and otherwise fine.  I drank juice and petted the cat until my blood sugar went back up to 83.  Then I went back to sleep.  Easy as pie - which would have come in handy with a blood sugar below 20!!

Why was that 33 so terrible and that 19 no problem?  Who knows?  Maybe The Big D was cranky Sunday night.  It's been around 20 years since I've had a low that left me so out of it.  I honestly hope it's 20 more before the next Scary Low.