Yesterday was a frustrating day for me for many reasons, including diabetes management. Here's a play-by-play:
6:45AM: Wake up groggy, as the cat has once again decided to walk on my head at 4:30 in the morning. And it was one of those rare nights when a crashing low didn't hit me between 3 and 5AM. Oh well. My first test of the day: 259. Ugh. Do a 2u Humalog shot to bring it down, hopefully, by the time I get to work.
8:40AM: After the hour-long, 10 mph slog in to downtown, dropping off my husband at his building, fighting crazy cab drivers, nearly hitting a deranged bicycle messenger, and jockeying for parking space in the garage, I'm finally at my desk. I check e-mail while testing again. Down to a respectable 159; I inject a little more Humalog (4u) so I can have a breakfast bar. I have a daylong meeting outside of the office, so as soon as I'm done I grab my coat and rush off.
10:40AM: Clock in at a nice 101. However, this is not good. I've unexpectedly been asked to help present for the next two hours; I won't have the chance to treat a low without disrupting the meeting. Instead of concentrating on what we're working on, I have to calculate the risk of running too high after eating/drinking something now, rather than take a chance on dropping any further. I decide to sip some juice during the presentation. Wrong call, as it turns out...
12:40PM: Ugh: 238, nearly back to where I started my day. Although I usually avoid doing so, I take a correction dose and a meal bolus together in one shot. I also take my daily Lantus shot. Lunch will be my last chance to eat for some time. Normally I repeat my morning approach--take a small correction dose, wait for signs of downward movement, then eat after injecting another small bolus. Today I'll be presenting again all afternoon, plus the caterer has orders to remove the food right after our break, so I can't delay my meal. I choose some steamed veggies, chicken, and a small dinner roll. Dessert is out of the question. (I could handle the sticky-sweet pastries on offer with extra insulin, but I'm a little 'old school' and still avoid everything but the odd slice of cake, or scoop of ice cream.) I have another Diet Coke and hope I don't go any higher.
2:40PM: Back down to 171. My lunchtime calculation seems to have paid off. Over the next two hours I stress out over some work issues with a difficult client, while fighting through traffic in a snowstorm to get back to my office. I'm spent by the time I finally reach my desk. I check a few e-mails, then call my husband and start the reverse slog/commute home.
5:40PM: What.the.h***: 60. Not the usual "I'm feeling weird, better test" 60, but a knock-down, drag-out, hands-shaking, Skittle-scarfing, husband-frightening 60. And it came from nowhere. My meter is an old el cheapo generic model and sometimes gives me funky numbers, so I suspect 60 is really 50. We sit in a local fast food joint while I cling to the table and wait for the floor to stop spinning. Amazing to think I managed to drive home through it all. I should have tested before I got going, but in the rush to leave I skipped it. My fault...
6:40PM: Home again, and back up to 166. I've had half a bag of Skittles and some peanut butter, and took a few units to cover it all. But I am too tired to move; for tonight I'm through fighting this beast. A gym workout becomes a pipe dream. At least "Celebrity Apprentice" looks mildly entertaining.
8:40PM: The rebound high hits, and I'm back to 231. I do a small correction shot, then sink back down on the couch. My husband rubs my back as the cat purrs in my lap. I'm ready to sleep, but e-mails and phonecalls keep me up for a couple hours. I finally hit the sheets at 10:40 and hope the next day brings better numbers.
In good news, my latest A1C (done last week) was 5.9. So I'm doing something right...
(P.S. Back in battle today, as my numbers have been off again all morning after a perfect waking test of 101. Oh well...maybe it's the Arctic chill 'round here that's to blame. Stay warm, everyone!)