All lows are not created equal, and Sunday I experienced one of the lows I despise. It was the kind that has me feeling absolutely terrified until my blood sugar comes back into range.
The number wasn’t all that low, at least not for me. I’m fairly hypo-unaware, so I usually don’t feel a 61 at all. (In fact, I just did a finger stick before starting this post and saw a 65 and I feel just fine. Don’t worry, I’m snacking on a Clif Bar and should be back up in no time. /digression) The 61 on Sunday, however, was not the least bit fun. I was trying to get ready to go out for brunch (since we still don’t have a functioning kitchen) but this low was not having it. I felt completely terrified. I felt like any minute I was going to drop dead. It was the worst feeling in the world. I treated and then I treated a bit more. Then I curled up on my bed in the fetal position. I tried to be logical and tell myself I would be just fine, but my mind wouldn’t accept that fact. I finally called out the window to Pete, who was in the driveway installing new wiper blades on his car, and asked him to come inside and sit with me. I hate when diabetes makes me feel needy and weak. Of course, by the time he finished up with his car and got inside, I felt just fine and was doing my hair so we could go eat.
November is Diabetes Awareness Month. You should know that sometimes low blood sugars aren’t so bad. I treat and move on with my day. But sometimes, they feel completely terrifying. Sometimes they leave me curled up in a ball waiting to die. Luckily for me, lows like that are rare, but they happen. And nobody should live like this. We need a cure.