The Perfect Storm

The title of this post is kind of ironic because I actually sleep the most soundly during a storm.  And there's one passing over us right now, making for a very sleepy Monday morning.  Especially after yesterday morning's "storm".  

It had been a fun night the night before.  I made homemade pizza, and we had some friends over for pizza, beer, and Phase Ten.  We stayed up until 10:30 PM; Trey was the victor in the Phase Ten game.  But it was still fun, one of my favorite ways to spend a Saturday night. 

However, the pizza/beer combination wreaked havoc on my blood sugars as soon as my head hit the pillow.  I'm learning so many things aboug my BG trends with Constance.  For example, the combination of high fat, high carb, and alcohol lingers in my blood stream for not just four hours, but six.  Therefore, my square bolus of 4 hours worked great while we were awake.  But my bolusing ended as soon as our evening did, which meant my BGs began their mountainous climb, blessing me with high alarms every hour starting at midnight.  As I've mentioned before, I'm horrible at actually waking up with the alarms.  I snooze at least once, usually twice, before I finally get up and correct.  This means that I woke up to a nice BZZZZZZZZ every hour until 3:00 AM when my BG was well over 300 mg/dL.  I corrected and tried to savor the 5 hours I had to sleep until we had to get up for late service. 

But not only do I live with a disease that never sleeps, I also live with 4 animals (2 cats and 2 dogs).  Our latest edition, Missy, is a 1-year-old lab/boxer mix.  She's a lovable little thing, but she has her own clock that wakes up everyday at 4:30 AM.  So, after finally sleeping for an hour and a half following my correction, I get up and let both dogs out for their morning potty and play time. 

Back to bed, but not for long until my long-haired tabby Elvis comes into our bedroom meow-screaming his head off.  "Did I give him water last night?"  In the chaotic fun that was our evening, I don't think I filled up his water bowl, which means he was surely letting me know I forgot.  Several attempts to shush him went by the wayside, he kept coming back. 

It's about 6:30 AM now and the dogs have arrived back from their time in the yard, and Roscoe is whining at the back door.  About this time, Constance goes off with a low alarm--can't really snooze on those because a low is a very unpleasant adrenaline rush to wake up to, sweat and all.  *sigh* "I guess I'm up," I groaned. 

After chugging some juice, giving Elvis some water, and letting the dogs in for their breakfast, I made some well-deserved coffee.  I grabbed my sugar-free French vanilla creamer and the biggest mug in our cabinet, filled the cup up to the brim, and shuffled to the couch.  The dogs were already passed out on the couch for their post-breakfast nap, and the cats were content in their tower once again. 

The storm was over, and the house was quiet again, minus the sound of the hubby and I chomping on our cereal.  Still an hour before the scheduled alarm. 

. . . 

Time for a second cup.