When I was first diagnosed with diabetes, my parents were like hand-washing nazis, so super diligent in making sure I had washed my hands and then (for added assurances) swabbed my fingertips with alcohol before testing my blood sugars to ensure as accurate a reading as the glucometre of the day could produce. As the years progressed, however, and as I completely took over this disease of mine, to say that diligence has slipped is an understatement – it went down the slide decades ago and has been buried under a myriad of finger filth for eons!
And then there was today…
In the hustle and bustle of trying to get myself and Little Ring organized for an afternoon at the movies (our first together!) I was multitasking like crazy, making my lunch, feeding and changing the boy, getting the diaper bag in order and cutting up an apple for an afternoon movie snack (yes, I am that girl!). After chopping up the apple and placing it into a ziplock bag, I rushed over to my meter, pricked my finger, no blood emerged, pricked again, nothing, went over to a third finger, which I knew had apple sugars all over it, and had actually thought, hmm, this might affect the reading, but the second I saw a good splurt of blood ooze out that thought fast evaporated.
The five second countdown of the meter resulted in a whopping 11.1 reading. What the hell? Where the bejesus did that come from? I’d been battling late morning lows all week, and sure I gave myself less insulin for my morning snack, but in no way should there have been that high of a reading as a result. But then, I thought, I’d been stressing all morning. My studying didn’t go as planned, Little Ring’s napping didn’t go as planned, we needed to be out of the house by noon, and the minutes were fast ticking down – maybe the stress of the morning was the cause. So, I didn’t give it anymore thought. I calculated my insulin dose for the carbs I’d be eating for lunch and gave myself an added correction to make up for the high.
Not even an hour later, my eyes were starting to blur, my thoughts were going fuzzy. Surely they couldn’t have bottomed out that quick, I thought, must just be my never-ending state of mommy exhaustion kicking in. But to be sure, I pulled out the meter, pricked my finger, counted down, and HOLY MARY MOTHER OF GOD!!! they were 2.9!!! Oh crap.
Moral of the story: Always wash your hands!!!
Note: I may or may not learn from my mistakes; I am not, in no way, shape, or form, to be harped on about this from ANYONE. That is all.
- 5:30 p.m. BG before: 9.5
- Temp. basal: none
- Distance: 15 minutes running, no walk breaks
- 6:30 p.m. BG after: 6.4