This morning when I woke up I felt like I had polished off a bottle of wine chased down by some shots, ugh. The thing is I had not had a drop of alcohol and was suffering with only what I can describe as a diabetic hangover.
The night before I was on the phone with my Dad around 9:30pm. That day I had ran 10km at lunch and then went to my weight/tabata class after work. As usual I had bolused conservatively. I had checked my blood sugar at 9:00pm and it had been a pleasant 6.1. Perfect. Or not! My Dad was chatting away and all of a sudden I noticed my right hand was shaking, then I went very hot and it was like someone opened the taps. Sweat started to pour off me. My face, arms, stomach and legs were streaming with sweat. I knew it was a bad one and did not bother to even check what my sugars were at. I lunged forward, grabbed my glucose and choked four of them down. He was still yacking on and did not notice what he was talking about until he asked me a question. I had trouble registering what he was saying and when I tried to talk it was like I had peanut butter in my mouth. My brain was having difficult communicating with my mouth and my body was very weak. I tried to explain I was suffering with a bad low blood sugar and would have to go. He was pretty concerned but I explained in a slurry voice that I was treating it but needed to lie down before I passed out.
After another two glucose tabs and some juice I was up to 5.8 half an hour later. I felt like garbage and was completely exhausted, not to mention soaked from all the sweat. I ate a large banana and got myself into bed to read. I had trouble falling asleep as my mind worried about the bad low I had just experienced and my fear of being alone when this happens was strong. Once I was asleep I don't think I moved (except once when my dog Basil fell off the bed, he must have been rolling around in his sleep). When my alarm went off I seriously felt like I had been partying hard all night. It took a lot of willpower to get up and ready for work. I felt like serious crap all morning, but forced myself out for a 10km run at lunch and as predicted I feel great now. Not sure what happened last night, but it scared me...and frustrates me. I know that this is going to be an ongoing thing for the rest of my life and that really makes me mad and sad at the same time.
I don't know those booze and grease cured hangovers are no picnic either. ;) sounds scary!
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