-unable to speak, surrounded by paramedics, sensors and IV lines all over yourself, children at the foot of the bed crying, and oh yeah, NAKED. under a blankie. Oh, and sweating like a whore in sunday school. Not so much fun. So, lets not do that again.
I was sleeping, do you mind?
really really really sucketh. yet it’s my fault. and not my fault. dammitall.
So…to begin,
I am a Type 1 diabetic, juvenile onset, insulin dependent. There are two types of diabetes. 90% are Type 2, which can be caused by poor diet or being overweight, etc. Type 1 is an autoimmune disorder, usually inherited, in which the body destroys the islets in the pancreas as though they were a foreign body. Those islets are what create insulin and regulate blood sugar. Which basically means digestion of everything you eat. I don’t make insulin anymore so I have to use needles and put it in myself. I’m fairly used to that. (Though I was very much at the high end of the spectrum for juvenile-onset; I was 19 and had already had my kids before I got really sick. Could never have had them afterwards, though, so. 
I'z not ded, but I playz wun for treatz. and belleh rubs.
I’m also depressed. And wiggin out. And insomniac. I had a lovely friend who told me about a lovely place here that helps primarily with mental health for those who can’t otherwise afford it. Thanks to this lovely organization I have been medicated for 2 years now. Maximum dose of Prozac, over the max dose of Wellbutrin, plus Neurontin which is experimentally used for anxiety. And Ambien-the loveliest most wonderfullest pill ever, because I can sleep like I never remember sleeping before. I’m sure I have, but I can’t remember. I go to sleep, within minutes, and I’m out-really just sleeping. I dream, and I wake up when my alarm goes off, I get the kids to school, I go to work, and I have SLEPT!! ”With insomnia you’re never really awake; you’re never really asleep” (chuck palahniuk)
There is no such thing as too much sleep.
But see, a big problem for insulin dependent diabetics is low blood sugar, insulin shock. Because we have to shoot up and it takes a while for the insulin to really kick in, it doesn’t always coordinate with what we eat or what we’re doing. Occasionally my sugar will get too low after I’ve gone to bed. Always I have woken up. I would wake up sweaty and shaky, knowing exactly what was wrong, and I would go get juice or something and take care of it. No biggie. I ALWAYS woke up before it got too bad. And even after I started taking the Ambien, a couple of times I woke up with low sugar. So I felt confident that if there was a problem, I would still wake up. Until I didn’t.
Once or twice lately (in the last few months, not like days or weeks) BF woke me up to get some sugar in me, because I was sweating and shaking. But still out, asleep. Completely new for me. And I have been dealing with this crap for more than 10 years. So I started making a habit of checking my blood sugar before I took an Ambien at night, and making sure it wasn’t on the way down.
And I did. GODDAMMITALL, I DID!!! I checked my blood sugar Weds. night, it was at about 115. I was concerned that it was going down, so I ate a couple of chocolate chip cookies and took my handy-dandy sleeping pill.
FUCKINGODDAMMITALLTOHELL!!!
It’s my children that get me, see. Younger tried to wake me up when he was getting ready for school Thurs. morning. He couldn’t wake me up, so he got Older. Older couldn’t wake me up. (All of this is told to me, I remember nothing.) Apparently my jaw was clenched so tight they couldn’t move it. Older called BF and they figured it must be low sugar. BF had been at work since 6:00 am, BTW. He called 911. Gave them a synopsis, at which time the emergency responders called my cell to talk to Older and assess my condition.
I’m guessing they got here fairly quickly. It’s not something that waits, much. I’m told that my initial blood sugar reading was 22. Anyone that knows anything about diabetics is now picking up their jaw. Death routinely occurs at rather higher numbers than that. I should have been dead. Really. (WTF?)
So…
First Responders are the Fire Dept. and they were great (I’m told) and the EMSA ambulance and EMT’s weren’t far behind. Soon I was plugged full of holes and covered in sensors. (So I’m told.) Got some glucose directly. I know all the sugar fiends are jealous now. Add caffeine and we’ve got a dream come true, right?
I’m not sure how long afterwards I woke up. I couldn’t see properly. I tried to move, and there were wires and stuff all over. Plus, I felt like crap. And discovered that I couldn’t talk. It was all OK in my head, the words were there. But my mouth wouldn’t listen. It was in a different time zone. The rest of my body, too. I saw my kids at the foot of my bed and tried to hold my hand out to them, and it wouldn’t go right.
I guess I came back fairly quick. Once the sugar gets back up, business is back in. I heard the EMT say that my sugar was 177. Safe enough, so they took out the IV. And I was waking up and aware….that I was naked. So the lovely EMT’s started removing all the sensors etc. they had on me, and pulled the blankets over. (I was never out in the open or anything, but still!) The guy in charge started asking me questions, like “Who is the president?” and “What is today?” and all the crap they ask on TV shows!!!!! Oh Gawd.
About 15 minutes later I could talk OK. I’ll never remember any of that hour or so. My kids will never fucking forget. I did that to them. Younger thought he was watching his mommy die. So did Older, but he doesn’t let things show as much. He’s 14 and a half, after all. Younger just turned 13 two days ago. jeezus christ on a crutch.
BF was there, he was en route and not too far when the kids called, so he came home and his boss was waiting in the truck outside. So once I was coherent he left to get back to work. The kids made the decision that I wasn’t in any shape to drive them to school, and that they should stay home to keep an eye on me anyway. The bit that makes me feel really guilty is that I think they meant it, more than they wanted to get out of school.
I had sweated enough to soak through my pillow and the sheets, and I was wet and cold and miserable. So I got in the shower, and then I took a nap on the couch, where Younger woke me up often to make sure I was OK. Then I started washing sheets and blankets, etc. And really contemplating and getting down and depressed and hating me.
SO. I’ve promised the kids I won’t take the sleeping pills, and I’ll be more careful of my sugar. And they are planning on waking me up every 6 hours or so just to make sure. Oh yeah, apparently I was foaming at the mouth. For reals. Oy vey. So, yeah. I can’t remember a whole lot, couldn’t identify a single one of the firemen or EMT’s surrounding my bed. I’m forever grateful, though, and of course don’t know how to tell them so. So, any and all: Firemen (women) EMT’s, police, any person who will hop in a truck and take off at a second’s notice to save a stranger: Thank You. I owe you my life.
Really really. It is very hard to accept, to realize, to fully grasp. I. Should. Have. Died. 22. My sugar was fucking 22. And I was gone. Would never have woken up. Now, later, all fine and dandy, it’s easy to think it’s no big deal. Just another episode of low blood sugar, right? But no. Soooo not taking the Ambien. for a while at least. If I can get it figured out, foolproof, I would love to be able to take it. I’ve never slept so well in my life. But, y’know, death is a lot more sleepy-full. Rather too much so.
I don’t know how much this will affect my kids. My poor, awesome kids, without which I would not be here right now. I’m bawling. My poor babies. I did that to them. It wasn’t on purpose and I tried not to, but still, I’m an adult responsible for her own body etc. and it was my own fault if it was anyone’s. DAMMITALL.
I am so sorry.
