Yesterday was a disastrous day for me on so many levels, and I’ll be honest, I didn’t want to write this post. I wanted to hide under my pillow and forget it never happened. But now, it’s truth time.
Coming clean No. 1: Last week, in the last kilometre of my long run, I tweaked my knee. The pounding on the pavement proved too much for my legs, and my left hip once again got jammed so far up my back, it was as though my left leg was a bloody stump compared to my right. My physio yanked my hip back into place, did some fist kneading, and then put the ultrasound machine and ice on my knee to reduce the swelling. Within a day, everything was feeling back to normal.
I took the week off from running and relied on the bike trainer and pilates for my fitness. On Sunday, I figured I was good to go. I figured wrong. Within 4 km, I could feel the pressure in my knee building, by 8 km, I desperately wanted to quit, by 13 km, I did quit – 4 km earlier than I should have. I hate quitting.
- 9:30 a.m. BG before: 9.6
- Temp. basal: -30 per cent/-50 per cent (2.5 hours)
- Distance: 13.20 km
- Average pace: 6:29 min/km
- Time: 1:35:49
- Fuel: Perpetuem
- @3km BG: 4.4 @6km BG: 3.6
- 12 p.m. BG after: 18.5 (let the F bombs roll)
- Temp. basal: +50 per cent (1.5 hours)
Coming clean No 2: I’m not so perfect when it comes to blood sugars. As much as I like to believe I have the upper hand on this disease, it knows I don’t and it thoroughly enjoys kicking me in the knees when I least expect it. At 3 km into yesterday’s run, my blood sugars were borderline low. I treated them with three Swedish Berries. I was hesitant to have the third berry as they generally shoot my BG up so fast, but didn’t want to take chances on having a crash in an area where I don’t have any supports around. So, I chewed up the berry, increased my temp. basal to +50 per cent and continued on my way. At 6 km, my blood sugars were low. This time, I had three DEX tablets. I didn’t test my blood sugars again until about 30 minutes after I finished running. The number on my screen had me wanting to run and hide. 18 point freaking 5!!! Are you bloody well kidding me???
I did a major BG correction on top of my lunch bolus, and figured okay, that was a rebound from the low, it’s not great, it sucks ass, but I can move on from this. Apparently the disease had other ideas.
Later that afternoon Mario and I had plans to go to our favourite Italian family’s place for dinner. But when I got home, I crashed on the bed (with my sweaty clothes on!) until Mario got home from his bike ride around 4. When he woke me up, I hopped into the shower, and started seeing black dots. Not a good sign. After the shower, I laid on the bed, and tested my blood sugars. They were 1.7! Holy freaking crap! I don’t remember much, so the following is from Mario’s memory.
He brought me up half a glass of orange juice, I drank it, he went back downstairs. I didn’t move. He heard me mumbling something a few minutes later, but couldn’t understand. He came back up the stairs, asked if I needed more orange juice, he brought me some. And from this point, it was like Groundhog Day for him. I guess when he brought the second glass of juice up, I repeatedly asked him when he had brought the last glass up, and kept telling him I was confused. He was worried.
See, Mario and I started dating after I’d already gotten my diabetes under control. I’ve had lows in front him, but never down-and-out lows like yesterday. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know if he should call the hospital, or pour the juice down my throat, or what. About 5 minutes in, I started to come around. I remember asking him that same question, it was my fifth time asking, I remember telling him I was confused, I remember feeling the towel on my head and not understanding why I had a towel on my head. It wasn’t until I looked at the times on my glucometre of when I tested (4:07 p.m. 1.5 and 4:22 p.m. 1.7) and then the time on the clock (4:29 p.m.) that I realized okay, I need to drink this juice. When my blood sugars were finally back to normal, I was mortified.
I do not like losing control. I do not like being dependent on this disease, I do not like being dependent on others when it comes to this disease, not even my husband. Eff you diabetes!