It was a cool, breezy Summer evening. That perfect kind of early Summer weather that never seems to last long enough.
We’d had a barbecue lunch that day. Steak, sausages, eggs, onion, salad and cherries. The kind of lunch that left me feeling like it was Christmas Day – stuffed, sleepy and happy.
I wasn’t particularly hungry by dinner time. I wanted to make sure that my blood sugar levels had stabilised before bedtime after that barbecue, and I didn’t want to spoil my appetite for breakfast the next morning. I had some leftover salad and cherries, and gave myself a small correction dose.
14 units of Lantus is what had been keeping me stable those past few nights. 14 units. I figured with that big barbecue lunch, 14 units would do the trick once again.
I sat down outside with my laptop after dinner, catching up on some of my dBlog reading. I started browsing for Christmas gift ideas a little later on, but somehow ended up comparing prices of items on my own Christmas want list.
My blood sugar levels were looking good during the course of that night, clocking in at 7.1 and 6.2. I had the best of intentions to settle in for an early night before the start of another working week. Little did I know, however, that my diabetes had other intentions.
I was 3.8 at 9.18pm. I figured that the majority of my rapid acting insulin had worn off. I thought 3 marshmallows would do the trick, but I gave 4 just to be safe. 20g of carbs, because I was about to go to sleep. I laid in bed, surfing on my phone for a while longer, until it was nearing 10pm. I was a perfect 7.6, but I was convinced that I’d given myself too much for that hypo. I set the alarm for midnight, ready to catch a rebound high in it’s tracks.
That was hypo number one.
I woke up a while later, and my pyjama pants were sticking to the sweat on my thighs. I knew that I didn’t need to test, but I needed to know how low I was. 3.2. I reached for the bag of Marshmallows beside my bed, carefully counting them out in my hand so my hypo induced brain wouldn’t forget how many I’d eaten. One, two, three, four, five. I shoved the 25g of carbs into my mouth and rested my head back on the pillow, feeling instant relief.
I finally noticed that it was 11.53pm, and switched off the midnight alarm on my phone. By this point, I figured that I’d given myself more Lantus than I needed. By this point, I knew that there wouldn’t be any rebound highs to catch that night. By this point, I realised that these hypos were a consequence of skipping dinner. I switched out the light, and went to sleep.
That was hypo number two.
By 4.30am, I was startled awake by my favourite sound in the world. I felt shaky once again. I wasn’t sure if it was another hypo, or if I didn’t have enough blankets on the bed. My meter confirmed that it was the former, clocking in at a very hypo 3.4.
I shuffled into the kitchen, my mouth tasting of dry sugar, and prepared myself the most refreshing thing I could think of. A bowl of Weet Bix, a sliced banana and lots of cold milk.
As I sat there relishing the cold, refreshing milk on my dry throat, I thought about what a great start to a Monday morning it had been.
That was hypo number three.
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