Last night was, by far, the worst night I've ever had with diabetes. I set a new record for myself for a low, not that I'm bragging in the least. I still feel scared writing this down, because I'm not really sure how I'm alive.
It all started when I was battling a high for 3 hours before bed. It was a nice Bell curve high that made me want to use my CGM for target practice. I stacked bolus on bolus as well as having an increased basal to make this high go down. Normally this practice results in me going low, in fact it usually does. But it's usually nothing I can't handle, and I'd rather be low than high right now. So when I finally when to bed at 160 mg/dL with an arrow going down, I thought I would coast to a landing around 100 mg/dL and have a nice flatline that I normally do overnight.
I woke up at 1 AM completely drenched in sweat, the only thing waking me up was Constance blaring at me. I don't remember walking to the kitchen, but I got there somehow. I put the strip in the meter and pierced my left index finger. Five seconds later . . .
That's the first time I've ever had a number lower than my age. Surprisingly, I didn't really get scared at the number. I just remember thinking, "Uhhh, I probably need to correct that." I ate a banana while making a peanut butter sandwich. I finished it off with some cranberry juice. I considered that it was probably an overcorrection, but I was freaking 22 mg/dL! I was in survival mode. So when I woke up again at 2 AM to a high alarm, I laced in 2 units for good measure. It was hard to go back to sleep at that point, but I finally did at 3 AM.
My alarm goes off at 5 AM, and I decide to snooze due to last night's festivities. I also decided to go ahead and bolus for my breakfast so the insulin could be working while I snoozed. Bad idea! Trey and I slept through the 2nd alarm and neither one of us woke up until 6:30 AM. Actually, Trey woke up and was standing over me with a glass of juice. "Baby, you're sweaty. Here." I mumbled and eventually woke up, but Trey had to pull me up into a sitting position. I drank the juice while he walked me to the kitchen. I tested, this time on the left middle finger: 22 mg/dL. I heard Trey gasp, and I whispered, "That's what I was last night." "What?!" I made my cereal and sat down on the couch, all while Trey was following me like a hawk. "I'm hovering until you come up." I smiled, finally feeling better but cold from all the sweat.
How could this happen? I reached my lowest threshold twice in 6 hours. I'm grateful for my CGM and my husband, because I honestly don't know if I would have woken up without them. I feel horrible this morning, even thought I should be looking forward to our gender ultrasound later this morning. The last 24 hours have been the worst ever for me with diabetes. At this point, I don't care if our child is a goat, as long as their healthy and haven't felt the effects from all this. That's what makes this post so hard.