this could very well be the most stupidest thing i’ve ever done with regards to my diabetes. but only time will tell. hopefully it’s not my parents saving my life that ends up being the determining factor on just how stupid this is.
you see, a couple hours ago, i was lying on my bed, watching gossip girl (yes, i said gossip girl, which, for the record, is stupider than some of the soap operas these days and it deviates very far from the books, which, really aren’t that good anyways, i think the last time i picked one of them up was last year when i was in the hospital dying in ICU of dka (diabetic ketoacidosis) a case of which, mind you, I didn’t cause, nope, not that time) i digress. so, i was watching gossip girl, and i was on facebook playing space raiders (which i’ve become insanely addicted to, i’m blaming geekgrl, she recruited me) and I was talking to peeps.
i was doing all that, yup, i’m a great multitasker when it’s all mindless, don’t ask me to be as great of a multitasker when things matter, because it just won’t happen. so, i was doing all that when mom came in and asked me for laundry detergent. now, this would never happen in the real world. mom coming and asking me for laundry detergent is unheard of, simply because, we’re never out of laundry detergent, we ALWAYS have more than one thing of laundry detergent. When the last thing of it is opened, it goes on the list, and that list is taken to the store and more laundry detergent is bought before the last opened bottle ever gets down to being half empty.
But this was a special scenario. You see, we’ve not had a washer/dryer operable in our house for 8 weeks now. It’s the pipes fault, the pipes in the concrete slab that leaked fault. And so, mom’s been doing laundry next door at my aunt’s house or at the laundry mat (the laundry mat is where I’ve been going for 8 weeks and so I’ve had my very own personal special thing of laundry detergent that lives in my trunk. and a couple weeks ago, mom gave me some of the same stuff and said that it couldn’t be used in our washer, that she needed something different.)
BUT! tonight, the wood flooring was in, the trim on the wall that goes on the wall above the floor was on, the caulking was complete (all this in the laundry area of course) and so after I had spent a couple hours at the laundry mat, I come home at just the perfect time, to help dad move the washer, from the garage into the house where we’d connect it and it would be available for mom to use when she was done playing cards next door at my aunts house.
and so, while i’m watching gossip girl, playing space raiders, and speaking to my peeps mom comes in exacerbated because she has no detergent. She needs some NOW! because she had already started the washer, and as I’m telling her that all I have is in my trunk and it’s that stuff she can’t use in our washer because she told me so a couple weeks ago she’s trying to get me to get up from my bed and get out to my car to get it.
and so very slowly, so slow i’m slower than a sloth slow, i get up from my bed and go down the hall mumbling about how i’m moving. not moving as in, i’m leaving my house moving, but moving as in i’m moving down the hall, making movement, moving.
i get her the detergent, whatever, go back to my bed, and realize, that something is very wrong, because i’m moving far too slow. i was moving so slow, i might have well been standing still. and so i grab my glucometer, lay down on my bed, prick my finger, turn gossip girl back on, squeeze my finger, and proceed to watch as blood sprays from my finger towards me, and in the process gets all over my freshly washed quilt that i had sprayed blood all over last week. except this week, it didn’t phase me, i continued to watch as it sprayed all over the place, and i continued to squeeze my finger.
i know i noticed, because i was watching it happen, but i didn’t stop to say “hey i just got blood all over my quilt again” no, i watched it spray until it could spray no more and then blood beaded on my finger and I put that blood in the test strip and counted allowed as the meter went 5…4…3…2…1…HEY IDIOT YOU’RE 32.
I get up, pull the quilt off my bed, yell “MOM” and take it to the sink where I repeat last week’s actions. Use cold water, rub the blood gently with my fingers, watch it kindof go away. and then, as opposed to last week’s, i’m crying because i got blood all over the quilt grandma made me and it’s not coming out all the way and i’ve got to go wash it at the laundry mat, i take it and throw it in the dryer and return to my bed and gossip girl and space raiders and my peeps.
and as i’m lying there, i begin to think to myself, how low can i go? will i really die if my blood sugar gets to zero? what does my pump say? and so I look at the graphs at my pump and I see that I’ve kindof flatlined at my low blood sugar. the pump is lying again because it doesn’t think i’m as low as my meter says I am, but i’ve flatlined.
not feeling any symptoms, i continue to watch gossip girl and play space raiders and talk to my peeps. the alarms occasionally go off to tell me that i’m low and i consciously ignore them. yeah whatever, i’m low, it doesn’t feel like i’m low and i’m watching gossip girl and playing space raiders and talking to my peeps so go away.
and then time passes by, one moment it’s 9:18 and then the next moment it’s 10:02 and it’s bedtime. so i close down space raiders, say good night to my peeps and i finish watching gossip girl. and then it’s 10:30. and so i put my pj’s on and go potty and i return to bed and i look at my pump, a nice flat line, and really, after some calculations, i just had to hold that flat line until 11:30 and then i’d have 3 hours of a flat line. it was only an hour more. and that was almost 45 minutes ago at this point.
and so here we are, blogging (because Lolo said i should blog sometime when I’m low, she thought it’d be amusing, but i’m not sure what’s amusing about this) and i’ve got about 20 more minutes to go, and the pump is beeping at me saying “HEY IDIOT, YOU’RE STILL LOW!!!” and i’m like, well duh, but i still don’t feel it, and you’ve got a flat line, so leave me be.
except it says that i’m 46 and the highest number on my flat line trend graph was 54 and i think sometime last week i decided that that flat line really had an 8 point thing. anything lower than the high number but not lower than 8 points of the highest number on that graph counted as a flat line.
so i decided that i can’t drop lower, so i ate an itty bitty part of a glucose tab. but that didn’t really help me because now it says that i’m 44 and my perfect little line is not so perfect anymore. i only had 15 more minutes to go and it broke i dropped lower than 8 pts from 54.
big ole bummer. the cool thing is, 3 hrs of a low, and the worst thing i felt was earlier when i was moving like a sloth.
only 6 more minutes, maybe i can have a straight line with only one little baby blip in it. and then, i can eat, my stomach has started growling. i want a big bowl of cereal.
one stupid little blip. almost a perfectly flat line. one stupid little blip. i’m tempted to let this go for another 3 hours to see what would happen, but i’ve got enough brains at this moment to know that that would be not particularly safe. well, not that what i laid around and did the past 3 hours was safe, but it would be even more stupid to do it for a total of 6 hours.