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Stop, Drop & Test

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It’s surreal but it happens.  The lack of logic is sometimes laughable.  I’m talking about the thoughts that go through your brain when you go low. 

I was sitting with my children playing a game of Exploding Kittens.  (It’s a card game my son got for his birthday).  The game is nonsensical but we were having fun and joking around which is the best part of getting them all to sit in one space without devices for any length of time.  Just as we were about to finish my Dexcom vibrated.

“Strange it usually beeps.”  I hit the button:  70 .  “That can’t be right.  I’ll get up and check that.”

[Inward groan from all who know better]

Dexcom alarms again.  Oh right.  Forgot to go test.  Hit the button:  49 .  What?!?

Stop, Drop and Test.

Meter:  37.  Uh….

I ask my son to hand me a marshmallow.  I down it.  He then leaves the room.  My daughters have already scattered to the basement which is almost sound proof.  I’m not too concerned.

Dexcom alarms again:  Urgent LOW! 42 .  Guess I need a bit more sugar.

And then…I decide to make a S’More (no chocolate) because “that always shoots me up quickly.”  I get out a marshmallow and place it on a graham cracker, put it in the microwave (no plate) and hit the quick minute button and walk away.  Husband calls.  Microwave beeps.  Inward groan.  “I hit one minute instead of 10 seconds.”  Ugh.  The marshmallow is a big sticky blob in the center of the glass insert.

Meanwhile my husband is talking, “I’m on my way home, blah, blah, blah.  Can you blah, blah, blah?”  I’m not really understanding what the heck he’s saying.  I juggle the phone while trying to wash the microwave insert in the sink and mumble through a mouthful of more marshmallow that, “I’m lom, givme a minut.”

He can’t seem to understand what I’m saying or doing but has somehow understood the word low.  He tells me, “I’m going to hang up now and call C (daughter in the basement).”

Why is he talking so slow and loud? I insist that I’m fine.  He hangs up anyway.

Then my legs begin to feel like jelly.  Hmm.  Maybe I’d better sit down.  Daughter C comes upstairs in a panic yelling at her brother for not taking care of me and makes me sit on the couch.    I’m  now clutching a paper plate with a second S’more.  I pick at the marshmallow.  I should really wait 15.  Don’t want to over correct.  I had already had two marshmallows and they were the huge ones.

Brother doesn’t understand why she’s yelling, he handed me a marshmallow and I didn’t seem too concerned.  I try to referee their argument.  Daughter C tells me I’m sweaty and acting strange.  Everything is sort of disjunct in a third-person sort of way.

I check Dexcom:  59 .

Daughter L stays in basement completely unaware of the little drama unfolding above.

Husband is knocking on the glass door in the back yard.  I get up and unlock the door. The kids continue to argue.

“Why are you at the back door?”

“I thought it would be quicker to get inside.  Sit down.”

“I’m ok.”

Daughter C, “No she’s not.  She’s acting strange.”

Dexcom finally a happy:  70 .

I remember laughing at something while on the phone with my husband but for the life of me I can’t remember what it was.  Honestly it wasn’t until my legs felt like they were turning into jelly that I realized I “felt” low.  In retrospect my forgetfulness, the urge to bust out laughing, and the detached calm were all symptoms of a low.  Just symptoms that were new to me.  This low came on pretty quickly as well.  I definitely need to tweak the ratios for my correction bolus because it seems like I have been getting more lows after a correction.

My children admonished me.  I should have told them I was low. “And where is the glucagon kit Mom?”  Good point.  At least I had already had them practice injecting glucagon into a couple of oranges using my expired kits.  Writing out an emergency plan and discussing it with them is definitely moving to the top of my to do list.

Until this point, I have not had to worry too much about out-of-the-blue lows.  I also haven’t had to engage my family in my care as much.  Times change.

AND, from this day forward when my Dexcom alarms I will:

Stop to check my Dexcom.

Drop what I’m doing.

Test my blood sugar.


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