I felt like I was out of the thick of the anxiety and BG woes. I had an apple and peanut butter for dinner and took no insulin for it because of the run. Sidenote: Yes an apple and peanut butter is most definitely a meal!
My blood sugar, however, kept dropping in the evening. I set two alarms. One alarm for 1:30am and one for 2:30am since those are usually the hours where I have the most trouble.
At 1:30 my bg was 3.7mmol/l (66mg/dl). I ate a date and went back to bed. I call dates "carb bombs". A carb bomb should have been enough for a simple low like that. At 2am I thought I was dying. BECAUSE I WAS DYING! 1.8mmol/l (32mg/dl). Honey+couch+patience. Except I don't know anybody with enough patience for what ensued. Here is how it went down after that initial 2am check:
4:00am: 3.7mmol/l! Hurray!
Approximately 2 hours at 1.8mmol/l. I must have taken 6 swigs of honey and nothing was happening. In my mind I was worried. Ryan was out cold because he took something to help him sleep. I considered waking him up in case a hospital visit was in the books. I came so close if that 4am check still wasn't budging. At 4am when I deemed it safe to go back to bed I took a Zofran. I woke up at 7am to a 14.1mmol/l (253mg/dl) What the fuck man?! The honey must have been "slow-release" or something. I guess I should have read the label. I tried to get an extra hour of sleep. Tuesdays are the only days I work somewhere and I was horridly hungover. Any other day I would have taken advantage of the whole self-employed thing and tried to sleep it off. I pulled myself together with so much coffee that my hands were shaking for the first half of the day trying to work.
Then it all went wrong. I was severely nauseous by the time I got home and basically could hardly move off the couch. How could I still be this badly hungover? This set my anxiety off on another acid trip. Fear and Loathing in Scully's body. I took a Zofran and not much changed. I drank ginger tea and took some Gravol and still not much changed. I settled into a long night of rolling around with severe nausea and not sleeping, eating or drinking. I fell asleep at about 3 or 4 and woke up at 6. Still with a really bad upset stomach and very heavy anxiety. For fucksake man. What the hell is going on?
I didn't even know any more if this was anxiety or diabetes induced. Or neither (?!) Or did one cause the other? Was it the precise combination of the panic attack + period + run induced low + blue skies? Typically my anxiety comes on in a cumulative manner. It builds and builds then, BAM! I know anxiety and womanly cycles affect my diabetes and vice versa.
Wednesday morning was still rough. I had about 4 hours to get some work done before Ryan and I had plans to go do something. Wednesdays are his days off so I often make them my day off too. I struggled to drink a couple sips of coffee and water.
Near the 2nd half of the day I was able to eat a rice cake. JOY! It had been nearly 24 hours since I ate anything. Slowly but surely by the end of the day my stomach was finally feeling a bit better. Now I was just fucking exhausted and lacking energy from not really eating or sleeping.
By Thursday I was almost myself again. I even got on my bike for an easy 60 minute spin but I felt pretty awful after so maybe that wasn't the best idea. On top of that, my BG continued to be high ALL DAY and not reacting to the exercise or insulin. In fact the bike ride made me spike to sickly levels despite having copious amounts of the sauce running through my body. It seemed like I was on a 2-units every 2 hours for 2 days before finally seeing some semblance of my normal.
Oh Diabetes and Anxiety, you think you make a great team.
By trial and error I can usually ascertain that its a team mission. Usually, it's the deadly combination of both and not one or the other individually. Diabetes and Anxiety. D&A BENDER TIME! The perfect storm. Or better yet, the ideal party situation for two misbehaving conditions.
I'm still picking up the dirty laundry and broken glass. A weekful of it!
I'm always up for any ideas at all to not make this such a bad trip for next time. There will be a next time. My life's experiences tell me so.