Morning lows

Two times this week I woke up to a low blood sugar. The first was two days ago, I could tell by the way he was behaving in his sleep. I woke him to ask permission to test his blood sugar.

He was happy to let me.

Sure enough, 24. Fuck.

So I went downstairs, got some juice and he drank a sip then refused to drink more. Double fuck. After emailing my bosses letting them know I'd likely be a little late, I waited for that small amount of sugar to sink in before trying again. 15 min later I walked into the bedroom and he woke up, asking what his blood sugar was. When I told him 24 he sucked down the rest of the juice.

I waited 20 minutes or so and checked on him before going to work. He was coherent so I didn't bother checking again. We were in good shape, I was confident of that. So off to work I went and the rest of the day went as planned.

Then it happened again this morning. I woke up, he was sleeping funny, but waking him to ask permission to test wasn't as easy. I got a grunt out of him and tested. 22. Mother fucker!

Luckily I was prepared with juice this time, so I did my best to get him to drink it. No luck. I walked out of the room, came back a few minutes later and tried again. This time he took 2 big gulps, but that's all.

I tried a few more times and nothing. So I waited it out then checked on him before I left. He wouldn't let me test, he wouldn't drink anything. He just wanted to sleep.

Yes, I get that. So do I. And, I need to go to work, damn it!

I was frustrated. More than I should have been given that he wasn't in the right frame of mind. I told him I didn't have time for this, that I needed to test his blood sugar before I left. He said "don't worry about it, I'm fine." It was coherent. So I left.

I feel guilty now, I know I shouldn't have left without knowing where he was, but honestly, I needed to get to work. I can't keep calling in every other day saying I'm going to be late. I just can't. It's not good for my career.

I so desperately want to talk with him about his disease management. I'm doing my best, but sometimes I feel like he could be doing better. And I feel like that's partially my fault. I'm always carbing out, snacking, eating foods he shouldn't be eating. So of course if we have that stuff in the house he's going to eat it. I'm even tempted to offer to give up my vegetarianism to help him out. Maybe if we eat more meat and less carbs he can take less insulin and there will be less risk of these lows.

Or maybe, this is just the way it's going to be and I need to find a better way to cope.

Either way, I'm going to put the offer on the table to do whatever it takes to help him manage this. It's for the health and sanity of both of us.

Traveling and Type 1

One of my favorite past times is traveling. This is also something that has become more difficult with a type 1 diabetic.

Not because we have to be prepared at all times with extra forms of sugar, test strips, bottles of insulin, etc., but because of the potential lows.

Traveling takes us off schedule, which leads to a greater chance for highs, and lows.

A few weeks ago we ran into a mid-night low that probably could have been prevented. I woke up to a very sweaty man who was convulsing...though still doing everything in his power to cuddle with me.

I jumped up and called 911. They weren't as quick as I would have liked, but when you're traveling you never know how long it might take them to get to your hotel room.

I've learned that in instances where I have nothing to give him and have to call the paramedics, it's up to me to make him as comfortable as I can while we wait. Most of the time that means leaving him be or rubbing his back with one hand, at most. I also try to keep talking to him, letting him know that help is on the way.

I fear the day that we're not near a big city and help isn't close. Sometimes that keeps me awake at night. I often find myself waking him up just to ask him if he's okay. I bet it's annoying.

Supporter Syndrome

Some days I just want to scream at the top of my lungs to release some of the tension and anxiety from being a caregiver.

Other days I want to curl up in the corner and cry.

But mostly what I want is to be able to lay in his arms and just have him understand how I'm feeling -- but he won't ever fully understand, and I won't be telling him either.

That's one of the burdens of being the primary supporter of someone with a disease like Type 1 Diabetes. It's unpredictable and therefore part of me is always on edge. After a scary low incident I have more emotions running through me than I know what to do with.

It's downright overwhelming.

This shittiest part is that I can't even talk to my friends about it because no one understands what's coming out of my mouth. With the amount of numbers and jargon involved, it can be difficult to communicate what has happened with anyone, let alone express my feelings about it.

I guess that's what this blog is for...

Being a supporter (I'm not a fan of using the word "caretaker" or "caregiver." I am neither of those, though I am his biggest supporter, with diabetes and in life) can be wicked difficult. Not only is it challenging to keep up with the disease and try to be proactive without being intrusive, but figuring out how to manage your own issues at the same time can be downright brutal.

Lately I feel like I've had some kind of supporter syndrome -- so many thoughts and emotions, so few outlets; and so little time to deal with it.

If anyone has any advice on being a top-notch supporter, please, tell me how.

Selfish Sleeper

Sometimes I feel very selfish when it comes to my sleep. I often go to bed earlier than the boy because he's a snorer and I know if I'm asleep before he is I can usually make it through the night, even when he's sawing logs.

I have started to notice that I'm becoming more selfish when it comes to his diabetes as well.

This summer it seems like there have been more middle of the night lows than usual. In fact, it's been about 1 a week for the past month or so - there have even been a couple incidences where the paramedics have had to show up and help me get his glucose levels back up. And more times than not, if he makes it through the night, he's waking up in a low-blood sugar state.

A few weeks back I asked him what he used to do when he was living alone...how he dealt with all these lows. His answer was simply that he's more careful when he lives alone.

That didn't seem fair to me. So because he knows that I'm here to take care of him, he can be more lax with his personal diabetes care? Really?!

Last night was another low incident, though I'm pretty sure it wasn't because of insulin confusion this time, thankfully. But I woke up to him making all kinds of strange sounds in bed, so I grabbed his glucometer and tested for him...with his groggy permission of course.

Sure enough it read 28. Damn. Out of curiosity I checked the history and when he tested before bed he was at 36. So did he not juice up before coming to bed or did he take that much insulin with dessert that it was still dropping even after getting some more sugar?

Probably a question I will never know the answer to.

So I got him some juice, woke him up, made him drink it, then he fell right back asleep. I on the other hand, did not. I stared at the clock. 2:12 am. I laid there for 30 minutes to monitor his behavior, which was basically unchanged.

About the time he rolled onto his back and crowded me, I headed to the couch for some peace and quiet. I knew that laying there in bed, I wasn't going to get any sleep the rest of the night.

I'm getting used to sleeping on the couch a couple nights a week. I guess it's not so bad. At least I'm getting some restful sleep for part of the night.

I do feel like it's selfish to leave the bed, especially not knowing exactly where his blood sugar levels stand, but I'm starting to realize that I need sleep too - even if it's not in the same room as the love of my life.

Diabetes and Sex

If intimacy makes you squirm, you may not want to continue on. I don't hold back - especially as an anonymous blogger ;).

For a woman dating a type 1 diabetic who is nearly 40, I can't complain about the sex life we have. In fact, I was actually pleasantly roused from my sleep at 1:30 this morning as he laid atop me and slid deep inside!

What a wake up!!

The events lasted longer than typical and I had a good idea why. As we lay in bed I turned to him and asked him to go downstairs and check his blood sugar.

Smart idea, given that it was at 39.

This is something I've found to be pretty typical when it comes to sex: his blood sugar drops rather fast.

Rarely does it make him loopy, but we've been through enough scary lows after doing the deed to know that he should have a snack after.

So he juiced up and came back to bed - everything was fine. But it might not have been had he not gone downstairs to double check.

Has anyone else encountered this -- low blood sugar after sex? It's definitely a common occurrence in our household.

A date with the paramedics

As we were cuddled up on the couch watching a movie last night, it struck me that, when it was time for his daily Lantus dose, I saw him drawing from his bottle of R.

But he assured me that he took 10 units of the fast-acting R just shortly before the Lantus dose to counteract the frozen yogurt dessert we were having.

I was skeptical, because I swore it was when he was supposed to be taking his long-lasting insulin, but I wasn't paying full attention so I didn't press the issue.

Though my bringing this up did get his attention, so he checked his blood sugar often for the next few hours.

At 11:30 it was 78. Good, he liked that number.

Then at midnight just before we started to doze off he tested again; the glucometer read LO. Just LO.

Sure enough, it's that damn insulin confusion again.

But he was walking and talking just fine, so when he went downstairs to drink some juice and have a cigarette to wait out the low, I didn't think much of it. We'd been watching a movie in bed that was about half way through, so I decided to take it to him downstairs to watch while I went to sleep.

Thank GOD I went downstairs when I did. He was standing, but the convulsions had started. Not 1 minute after I walked down those steps was he unable to stand on his own. He sat down on the coffee table, but could no longer hold himself up. I was holding him up as he spasmed in my arms.

I felt totally helpless. The juice bottle wasn't within reaching distance, and if I let him go to fetch it, he was going to hit the hardwood floor. Both cell phones were upstairs on the nightstand. I could do nothing aside from hold him up.

So I decided to get him to the floor. He wasn't super happy about it, but by the time I got him there he wasn't saying much of anything; convulsions continued.

I ran upstairs, grabbed my cell and dialed 911.

After explaining the situation, I opened the blinds so I knew when the paramedics would arrive.

Lucky for us, we're about 4 city blocks from the fire station, so it never takes long.

A local cop was the first to arrive. He was in the area and thought he'd stop to see if he could help. Nope- sorry dude. Turns out, he really was just bored; said there was nothing else going on tonight.

Honestly that pissed me off a bit. My living room is not the place for you at 2:30 am, sorry guy! But of course, I couldn't exactly kick him out. And once the paramedics arrived, I had other things on my mind.

Luckily, he was startled out of it by the 4 random people in our house and he was able to get up and drink some juice. I think the juice he'd had before they got there was finally kicking in. He was up to 29 at least. And holding a pretty nice conversation I might add.

When that happens and he actually doesn't need medical attention, I always feel a little bad, 1) for waking up the paramedics, and 2) for the unnecessary attention from strangers that he has to endure.

After they left he apologized for the insulin mix up and scaring me. I can't say it's something I've even remotely gotten used to, but I have become more comfortable picking up the phone and dialing 911. I used to hesitate, not knowing if I could get him to consume enough sugar to bring him back. But sometimes it's just best to have the extra help.

I'm a pretty small girl, and he's 6 foot+, 185 lbs of pure muscle. Sometimes I'm scared that I might get hurt while trying to help him or move him.

Though I have to say, I'm one of the lucky ones, because he's far from violent. In fact, even through his convulsions last night he continued to use what was left of his strength to wrap his arms around me and ask me to hug him.

As he laid on the floor, nearly unconscious, I continued to rub his arms and tell him how much I love him - and hearing those words he'd squeeze my hand.

I'm thankful that I'm not one of those caregivers who wonders if they'll get hit during a low.

After another half hour or so we checked again and he was up to 93. Good to go to bed!

But of course, that didn't make me sleep easy. Throughout the night as he snored away, I continued to wake up at the slightest movement and touch his head/neck to make sure he wasn't sweating and to ask him every time he rustled if he was okay.

I suppose that's what's going to happen when you're a worry wart like me. Though, as I tell myself, it's better to be too concerned than not at all. After all, if I wasn't, what would have happened at 2:30 this morning?

On being a bad influence

Confession: I love my carbs.

And not necessarily the good kind either. As I sit here, I'm chowing down on my mid-morning snack of pretzels and Cheese Its. Dinner last night was a bowl of cereal with sugar on it. When I order soup for lunch I always ask for a second hunk of bread to dip in it. My limited cooking skills always include pasta. I can't turn down pizza or ice cream, ever.

I'm also a vegetarian, so I have a hard time with high-protein diets.

Though don't get me wrong, I often crave a good salad with oil and vinegar dressing. And I'm a sucker for dried fruit and nuts. When I go out for sushi, sashimi is a main part of the meal. And I do drink a soda a day, but it's always diet.

When we first started dating I was in the habit of not eating. It's what busy, single girls do. Yes, I know that's equally as bad, but I wasn't too worried about it.

My eating has since changed, but carbs are still a main staple of my diet. I was once told that I'm a bad influence, dating a type 1 who has little to no willpower.

At the time, I thought "that's not fair, you're a 30-something who has been living with this disease for longer than I've been alive, shouldn't you be able to handle my eating cold pizza in front of you?"

After moving in together it made more sense - if it's in the house, he's likely to eat it. So I tried my best to eat mostly salads at home. So at lunch I would splurge on all the carbs I could get my hands on. I was frequently visiting the local Chinese restaurant so I could consume noodles and rice galore!

My digestive system loved me!

I've since been trying to cut back in general, just so I can be more healthy for myself. But it's still difficult. I love me some empty carbs.

So what's a girl to do? How do I go about being a good influence to my type 1 diabetic while still enjoying some of those oh-so-yummy carbs I crave?

Finding this balance is going to be a challenge.