Diabetes doesn't play nice
To be honest, we all know diabetes rarely, if ever, plays nice. I was thankful it had been on its best behavior in recent months so I shouldn't be surprised it laughed in my face and threw a massive curveball at me.
I traveled to Orlando in February for my employer's International conference as part of crew. It was an incredible experience and a lot of hard work. Seriously. Work days began at 6 am (so you know we were up earlier getting ready) and we usually didn't return to our rooms until midnight. I'm already looking forward to the 2019 conference.
Despite the long days and hard work, my diabetes wasn't an issue. We arrived on Tuesday and I didn't have my first "oh crap" low until Friday morning. It wasn't anything severe but my mind was started to get hazy. I grabbed one of the cans of coke from one of the many tables filled with soda choices and stepped outside into the beautiful warm sunshine to drink it. And in an hour lunch was served so this low was no big deal.
Saturday morning and diabetes became an asshole. My CGM kept beeping but I slept through it for the most part because my liver loves to go into superhero mode still. My roommate, however, did not sleep through it. Around 4 or 4:30 though I woke up with the need to vomit. Does anyone else ever need to vomit when low? It happens to me occassionally if the low is troubling enough. I have no idea why.
I scrambled out of bed as my roommate asked if I was okay. I couldn't respond because, well, duh. I stumbled into the corner of her bed and I don't remember anything between stumbling into her bed and arriving at the toilet. And there is an amount of time after that I don't fully remember either.
Diabetes is an asshole and doesn't play nice.
Suddenly, one of our directors was at the door to our room and came in and sat down caddy-corner from me. She spoke in her soothing tone and I had to fight to not doze off. Have I mentioned I love to go to sleep when I'm low? It isn't a good thing people. But since she is a director in my department and in charge of the event, I knew I couldn't.
I remember security coming — I think with band-aids — and asking if we needed to call paramedics. You can bet your life I was adamant we did not need to call the paramedic. This was just a basic low blood sugar, right? Right. I'm the expert. :) Plus, to be honest, I'm already on a first name basis it seems with the paramedics in my home city. I'd like to avoid knowing more in other cities.
I remember hearing my roommate on the phone with someone while our director was in the bathroom but I'm not sure with who. She went to our director's room to grab a can of coke. Did I mention my boss (another director) was rooming with our director? Thanks boss for not coming to see me in the state I was in.
My roommate and director grabbed my pile of snacks. Dude, I'm a type one diabetic, I always travel with snacks. And insisted I eat some peanut butter cracker sandwiches. They were like cardboard. It took about five minutes to eat just one. At the same time, I just wanted to go to sleep. And vomit. And maybe TMI, my bladder didn't play nice when I got rid of food from my system.
By the time I was feeling more "with it" and my blood sugars were rising, I'm sure it was a few hours later. I was without shorts to sleep in or move about the hotel room. They let me take a shower because I felt nasty and then I climbed into bed and attempted to doze off.
There are chunks of time I don't remember during this experience. For example, I apparently beat myself up and ran into things. I have a massive gash in my left elbow, a bruised palm (those suckers hurt), a smaller gash on my right knee, a bruise on my left shoulder, and a small bruise on my left forearm. I have no idea how this all came to be. The hotel bathroom is apparently a very dangerous place. I only remember stumbling into the corner of my roommate's bed.
From my injuries, there was significant blood everywhere. If you ask my roommate, it looked like a murder scene and she was determined to keep me alive. Blood on the floor. Blood on my shirt (no idea how it got there). If only for the fact because she'd be seen as the prime suspect if I died. Oh, and also because we're friends.
During this fall, I also apparently (no memory) pulled out my insulin pump infusion site. On Sunday morning I learned I busted my insulin pump that is no longer under warranty. Have no fear, it was still giving me insulin, it just was no longer connecting to my glucose meter. My new pump was also on its way to be delivered so I didn't need to stress. It was a good run insulin pump.
Our director gave us the morning off from our crew responsibilities and said I didn't need to be downstairs until 5 p.m. As an experienced person with diabetes, I knew I would only need a few hours to recover. When we returned to the activities, I walked into the massive general session room and saw the rest of the event crew at the "in charge" table in the back of the room. The sigh of relief on one of the girl's face made me feel terrible for causing her worry but also made my heart grow because it showed me she cared and maybe I'm worthy to be cared about.
My roommate deserves a medal for her awesomeness. She kept her cool in what I'm sure was a scary experience. She cleaned up the bathroom, she went and got us breakfast (Apple Jacks for me if you must ask) and band-aids, and made sure I was okay. She had the hotel bring us more towels and since they knew something was going on, brought us robes and slippers.
My director is another rock star. She didn't judge. She focused on what I obviously needed, even if I was oblivious to what I needed, and didn't seem stressed at all about what was going on.
I bust my butt trying to control my diabetes and take care of myself. I never want to be seen as a burden to people or weak. I never want someone to think I can't do something because of this stupid disease. Everyone involved (a few others obviously knew) have been extremely gracious and have not judged or shamed me. I have shamed myself and feel embarrassed this happened because I was trying so hard not to let it happen.
During the big evening event on Saturday night, a few executives asked how I was feeling which caused me more embarrassment but like everyone else, they weren't judging, they just truly cared. When I met with the VP of Risk, he informed me everyone loves me and just wants me to be okay and these things happen.
I suppose you could say I provided a great bonding opportunity for a few of us. I'd rather bond over our love of all things Disney or a bottle of wine but at least this was memorable.
After the fact, I remembered this happened on a Saturday morning which obviously follows Friday. A Friday during Lent. Conferences are tough because you don't have much choice for your meals and looking back I definitely didn't get the protein I needed. I've made note of this for next year and will make sure to be eating protein during the day. Even if I have to have a hidden jar of peanut butter and spoons to grab.
My ego is bruised because this happened in front of people I work with and respect. Lows like this make me emotional after the fact. So these poor people also had to deal with emotional Kristin. Sorry about that.
Diabetes is an asshole and doesn't play nice. Despite that, I'm okay. I had to share this experience because it is important to show there is absolutely no glamor to diabetes. Instead there is grit, grim, blood and chaos.
I traveled to Orlando in February for my employer's International conference as part of crew. It was an incredible experience and a lot of hard work. Seriously. Work days began at 6 am (so you know we were up earlier getting ready) and we usually didn't return to our rooms until midnight. I'm already looking forward to the 2019 conference.
Despite the long days and hard work, my diabetes wasn't an issue. We arrived on Tuesday and I didn't have my first "oh crap" low until Friday morning. It wasn't anything severe but my mind was started to get hazy. I grabbed one of the cans of coke from one of the many tables filled with soda choices and stepped outside into the beautiful warm sunshine to drink it. And in an hour lunch was served so this low was no big deal.
I scrambled out of bed as my roommate asked if I was okay. I couldn't respond because, well, duh. I stumbled into the corner of her bed and I don't remember anything between stumbling into her bed and arriving at the toilet. And there is an amount of time after that I don't fully remember either.
Diabetes is an asshole and doesn't play nice.
Suddenly, one of our directors was at the door to our room and came in and sat down caddy-corner from me. She spoke in her soothing tone and I had to fight to not doze off. Have I mentioned I love to go to sleep when I'm low? It isn't a good thing people. But since she is a director in my department and in charge of the event, I knew I couldn't.
I remember security coming — I think with band-aids — and asking if we needed to call paramedics. You can bet your life I was adamant we did not need to call the paramedic. This was just a basic low blood sugar, right? Right. I'm the expert. :) Plus, to be honest, I'm already on a first name basis it seems with the paramedics in my home city. I'd like to avoid knowing more in other cities.
I remember hearing my roommate on the phone with someone while our director was in the bathroom but I'm not sure with who. She went to our director's room to grab a can of coke. Did I mention my boss (another director) was rooming with our director? Thanks boss for not coming to see me in the state I was in.
My roommate and director grabbed my pile of snacks. Dude, I'm a type one diabetic, I always travel with snacks. And insisted I eat some peanut butter cracker sandwiches. They were like cardboard. It took about five minutes to eat just one. At the same time, I just wanted to go to sleep. And vomit. And maybe TMI, my bladder didn't play nice when I got rid of food from my system.
By the time I was feeling more "with it" and my blood sugars were rising, I'm sure it was a few hours later. I was without shorts to sleep in or move about the hotel room. They let me take a shower because I felt nasty and then I climbed into bed and attempted to doze off.
There are chunks of time I don't remember during this experience. For example, I apparently beat myself up and ran into things. I have a massive gash in my left elbow, a bruised palm (those suckers hurt), a smaller gash on my right knee, a bruise on my left shoulder, and a small bruise on my left forearm. I have no idea how this all came to be. The hotel bathroom is apparently a very dangerous place. I only remember stumbling into the corner of my roommate's bed.
From my injuries, there was significant blood everywhere. If you ask my roommate, it looked like a murder scene and she was determined to keep me alive. Blood on the floor. Blood on my shirt (no idea how it got there). If only for the fact because she'd be seen as the prime suspect if I died. Oh, and also because we're friends.
During this fall, I also apparently (no memory) pulled out my insulin pump infusion site. On Sunday morning I learned I busted my insulin pump that is no longer under warranty. Have no fear, it was still giving me insulin, it just was no longer connecting to my glucose meter. My new pump was also on its way to be delivered so I didn't need to stress. It was a good run insulin pump.
Our director gave us the morning off from our crew responsibilities and said I didn't need to be downstairs until 5 p.m. As an experienced person with diabetes, I knew I would only need a few hours to recover. When we returned to the activities, I walked into the massive general session room and saw the rest of the event crew at the "in charge" table in the back of the room. The sigh of relief on one of the girl's face made me feel terrible for causing her worry but also made my heart grow because it showed me she cared and maybe I'm worthy to be cared about.
My roommate deserves a medal for her awesomeness. She kept her cool in what I'm sure was a scary experience. She cleaned up the bathroom, she went and got us breakfast (Apple Jacks for me if you must ask) and band-aids, and made sure I was okay. She had the hotel bring us more towels and since they knew something was going on, brought us robes and slippers.
My director is another rock star. She didn't judge. She focused on what I obviously needed, even if I was oblivious to what I needed, and didn't seem stressed at all about what was going on.
I bust my butt trying to control my diabetes and take care of myself. I never want to be seen as a burden to people or weak. I never want someone to think I can't do something because of this stupid disease. Everyone involved (a few others obviously knew) have been extremely gracious and have not judged or shamed me. I have shamed myself and feel embarrassed this happened because I was trying so hard not to let it happen.
During the big evening event on Saturday night, a few executives asked how I was feeling which caused me more embarrassment but like everyone else, they weren't judging, they just truly cared. When I met with the VP of Risk, he informed me everyone loves me and just wants me to be okay and these things happen.
I suppose you could say I provided a great bonding opportunity for a few of us. I'd rather bond over our love of all things Disney or a bottle of wine but at least this was memorable.
After the fact, I remembered this happened on a Saturday morning which obviously follows Friday. A Friday during Lent. Conferences are tough because you don't have much choice for your meals and looking back I definitely didn't get the protein I needed. I've made note of this for next year and will make sure to be eating protein during the day. Even if I have to have a hidden jar of peanut butter and spoons to grab.
My ego is bruised because this happened in front of people I work with and respect. Lows like this make me emotional after the fact. So these poor people also had to deal with emotional Kristin. Sorry about that.
Diabetes is an asshole and doesn't play nice. Despite that, I'm okay. I had to share this experience because it is important to show there is absolutely no glamor to diabetes. Instead there is grit, grim, blood and chaos.
Oh Orlando and diabetes. Disney gave me diabetes, I caused on airplane to land (low) on my way to Orlando and I was naked outside in the courtyard of a Disney hotel after a fire alarm went off (that had nothing to do with diabetes). I cannot say Orlando is my favorite place.
ReplyDeleteRegardless I am glad you are doing well, made it back home in one piece and you are doing well. I suggest staying out of Orlando, oh and keep your clothes on in the shower, just saying.