What a way to start the week. I woke up with enough time to gather all my paraphernalia for the day without having to race around like a chicken with its head cut off. No small feat for me. I had my usual cups of coffee, threw a granola bar & a piece of fruit in my bag & was on my way. I even made it work early. I never actually ate the breakfast that I remembered to bring so by about 9:30 my stomach was grumbling. Reaching for my trusty black kit, my arm brushed against my abdomen where my infusion set was and something didn’t feel right. I looked down and saw that I was not attached; as in no pump. My mind quickly did a recap of the morning & there it was…sitting on the hamper in the bathroom, at home, where I put it while I shower. Shit. I do my blood sugar and it is 341. Great, 341 & no insulin on board. Frantically I rummage through my emergency pump supplies looking for a syringe, trying to figure out how I could use my extra infusion set and reservoir to get insulin into my body. I give up on that idea, when I realize I would have no idea of how much insulin I was giving myself which would surely lead to an ugly low. Instead, I call my husband to lament. I really don’t know what I expected him to be able to do from across town at his office but I just wanted him to know. “How can you forget to put your pump on?” he asks, in a fretful tone. Not exactly the sympathy I was looking for but a very valid point.
How can I forget to put on my pump that provides my life-sustaining drug? Probably the same way I have forgotten my blood sugar machine or test strips (on more than one occasion). I just do. My mind is elsewhere. The day did not improve from there. I had to go home (25 miles) and get the forgotten pump and hurry back to work. By the time I got back it was time for lunch which coincided with a staff meeting on this particular day but my blood sugar was still too high to eat. Of course there were these mini-brownie-cupcake-things that were just about making me drool. The unfinished ones, I knew would be parked in my office (the reception area) for the remainder of the day. Great; I did not have the willpower for this today. I was cranky. Needless to say, I had a few.
I continued to feel ornery for the remainder of the day; so much so that I decided to play hooky from school. My self-destructive path persisted with the eating of Kraft Mac & Cheese, plus extra cheese for dinner and the taking of an extra-generous bolus for this meal in hopes of dropping low so I would have a good excuse to eat more chocolate. It worked and I dropped to 100, and felt like I was still dropping so I had chocolate covered pretzels and ice-cold milk. I did not bolus for this extra treat and went to bed glad that this bad day was over.
It wasn’t over yet…I woke up at 1:30 am, bladder near bursting, with a blood sugar of 475. Nice. Bolus 11.1 units in the middle of the night and pray that I would not crash and wake up low causing another bad day.
I woke up at a perfect 126, but still angry at myself for my previous days behavior. I don’t know why or how I can forget such simple, essential things such as my pump or my BG machine. Maybe it’s because I am trying to forget diabetes for a while. On the other hand I do know that I make choices about my diabetes care when I am hyperglycemic. The high blood sugar makes me feel cranky and too lethargic to care about my stupid diabetes. My mind is too clogged with the abundance of syrupy sugar in my blood stream for me to think clearly. Just when I need it most, the clear thinking and voice of reason abandon me. I know this happens, just not how to fix it. I am nowhere near the level of care where high blood sugars do not exist.