Bed

I stirred in my sleep, registering the blaring red 3.14 on the clock radio beside my bed. Pulling my left arm out from under the covers, I fumbled around for the switch at the base of my bedside lamp. When my desk was finally illuminated in cosy warm white light, I heaved the remainder of my body up from the bed, reaching for my meter and test strips.

This certainly wasn’t the number that I was expecting to see, considering the full 2 unit correction that I had given prior to bedtime for a 10.7. (And in case you’re wondering, I’m only using the OneTouch Verio to deplete my final box of strips…)

I immediately ripped my pump away from it’s resting place inside my inner left pocket, and gave another full correction of 3.3 units for that very uncomfortable number. My frustration was only further fuelling my actions, as I set a 50% basal rate increase for the next two hours on my pump to ensure that this correction insulin did its job.

As I flicked off the lamp and rested my body back onto my bed, I couldn’t get back to sleep. I could feel the heat emulating from my pillow, and flipped it over to the cool side. My whole body felt stuffy, presumably a consequence of the higher blood sugar.

As I lay there, tossing and turning, my mind was quickly consumed with guilt.

I wasn’t happy that it had taken me this long into the night to finally stir in my sleep and check my damn blood sugar. I felt terrible for the fact that I had been sitting there, at that very uncomfortable level, for the better part of five hours. I felt frustration, because a mere two weeks ago I was super insulin sensitive and today I feel like I’m not getting enough.

Second guessing my prior decision in the darkness, I reached for my pump and lowered that 50% temporary basal rate to 30% before clipping it back inside my pants pocket.

Trying to purge those thoughts from my mind, I began thinking about all of the positive things that I am doing in managing my diabetes, reminding myself that numbers like those are isolated occurences nowadays.

If this had happened in the middle of the day, I’d have corrected the high without giving it a second thought. But laying there in the middle of the night with nothing else on my mind to worry about, was a completely different story.

By the time I woke up on a grey Sunday morning, last night’s occurrences felt like nothing more than a dream.