low blood sugars

Sometimes…

Sometimes I don’t want to stop. Sometimes I’m in the thick of a really great book, and I don’t want to stop. Sometimes I’m in the middle of writing a killer sentence, and I don’t want to stop. Sometimes I’m climbing down the Eiffel Tower in the twilight hours, and I don’t want to stop Sometimes I’m in the depths of a needed sleep, and I don’t want to stop. Sometimes I’m at 8.5 km of a strong 10 km run, and I don’t want to stop. Sometimes I’m hurting with joy, giggling so hard with my boy, and I don’t want to stop. I can see the words on the screen go blurry. I can feel the letters in my book as they punch me in the face with every bounce across the page they make. I can sense the happy flutters in my belly being strangled into sickening …

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Ramblings of a Type-1 No. 6076

The other day after reading one of my most favourite fellow type-1’s blog posts about a recent low she had, I started reflecting on the lows of my life. This isn’t an unusual thing. I think when something out of your control renders you completely helpless to the point of holy freak that happened and I survived (yes, some have been that dramatic!) it sticks with you and is a constant reminder that no matter how well you manage your Dear Diabetes frienemy, you just never know when her evilness will underhandedly strike you down. I’ve had some doozies over the years; some I’ve already shared, some I will never share. I’ve passed out alone in a ditch; I’ve smashed head first into the corner of a pointed glass coffee table, full weight down; I’ve woken up with my tongue a throbbing, swollen mess and the insides of my cheeks …

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Hot dogs? Are you freaking kidding me?

Just like my food cravings, my diabetic body seems to be reverting back to days of yore – those were not fun days. While I crave such unheard of foods (in my regular diet that is) as my pop’s homemade perogies and farmer sausage, scalloped potatoes, poutine, roast beef with carrots and onions soaking up the juice in the roaster, and hot dogs – HOT DOGS!!! – (something I have not eaten in well over a decade) my head has been riddled with post low blood sugar migraines. Hotdogs? Are you kidding me? Why am I not craving chocolate – something I actually like? This week I have had six migraines in as many days. Headaches so bad, I clutch my head trying to make it stop. Headaches so bad, I can’t open my eyes for fear of the brightness elevating the pain. Headaches so bad I spend hours in silent, …

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Travel woes

I love traveling. I’ve driven across Canada twice, visited several states in the America, have fallen in love with the likes of France, Italy, Spain, Belgium and Germany, and nearly every day I am dreaming of new places to discover. However, traveling doesn’t always love me. Clockwise from top: Florence 2009; Bruge 2010; Paris 2007; Barcelona 2009. As a Type 1 diabetic, I need to know carb counts for everything I eat in order to figure out how much insulin to take. At home, it’s fairly easy. I have product bags and boxes and containers with pertinent nutritional information posted. I also have a carb-counting scale that calculates carbs for a whole range of things, fruit, beans, ice cream, pasta, etc. But on the road, those tools are not readily at my fingertips. Evening dessert: 1 apple = 23.35 carbs, which is rounded down to 23 carbs. At 1 unit …

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Land O Diabetes

Okay seriously, somebody in the Land O Diabetes is bloody well out to get me. If Sunday wasn’t bad enough, on Monday, the kick-em-when-their-down diabetes gods made me forget my insulin pump at my Pilates studio, and not realize I was sans pump until I was back home again – 40 bloody minutes away from the damn studio! Most definitely starting to get pissed off here. Just as I was leaving work for the day, my Pilates chicks called me and asked if I could come in an hour earlier, which I thought was great. I had a ton of stuff I needed to get done at home including the ever-growing laundry pile I’d missed due to not being home Sunday night, and figured an extra hour in my evening would be perfect. I did my hour, worked around my sore knee, and before leaving, went into the washroom and changed …

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