I was freaking out.
I was a couple days off from my first final of the semester, and I was completely wigging. It was an upper-level research course. I had been doing well. I knew the material. By all accounts, I should have been confident. But no, I was in full-blown freak-out mode. I don’t like exams, and no matter how well I know the material, I generally get over-run by anxiety. But this time was different. This time was worse.
Dear Diabetes had gotten in my head.
Not surprising, really. The midterm was a bloody gong show. Normally my blood sugars run high for exams. It’s that whole anxiety thing setting up the fight or flight response, shooting up the adrenaline – and the blood sugars. But for the midterm, Dear Diabetes decided to take me on a different kind of roller coaster. Instead of high blood sugars, they bottomed out 10 minutes prior to the start of the exam. I scarfed down handfuls of dried apricots. It was no use.
High blood sugars, as long as they don’t go above 13 mmol, I can deal with. But low blood sugars, no.
The first 30 minutes of the exam was awash. The words bounced all over the pages for the first 10-15 minutes, and then the next 15 minutes, it was a mumbo of confusion. I couldn’t make out the research abstracts. I didn’t understand what the questions were asking. I knew time was ticking. The anxiety rose. I started to sweat. It was all I could do to stop from hitting my head in all-out frustration.
My moms, and all her hippie friends voices filled my head. I closed my eyes for what felt like an hour but was likely only 2 minutes, doing everything in my power to calm my mind, my heart, my blood sugars.
Finally, the words made sense.
So, the final. I studied the slides. I studied my lecture notes. I asked friends in the class for clarification on some of the smallest details. I studied my diabetes. I looked for trends. I made adjustments. I planned the day’s fuel, and made sure I cut and measured the carbs of the apple for complete bolus accuracy. If Dear Diabetes had plans for me, I was going to be ready, I was going to be beyond prepared – both in material and body.
Dear Diabetes was not going to win this battle. Not this time.
The final was last Tuesday.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t safe from the anxiety; the blood sugars continuously creeped up prior to the exam. I bolused an insulin-correction 10 minutes before going in. As long as they didn’t go too high, though, I’d be safe from nausea.
The highs don’t cripple my brain.
As for the exam, I was 5,000 per cent solid. Results were posted the other night; I scored 91%.
Dear Diabetes: FACE!
Awesome!! Haven’t really had a problem with tests yet, but I had a rough day in clinical after forgetting to unsuspend my pump overnight. My brain was in a fog for half the morning, and I was pretty useless.
High five, my friend 🙂 I have a couple of choice words for Dear Diabetes … but I know how elfin’ sensitive you are about language … and this is a public forum after all … but DAMN I loved your story … You ROCK!!!!!! 🙂