A Shut-Eye High


I just sat down to blog (I actually had a serious subject in mind) and felt my eyes starting to close.  I am tired -for sure – but this is a different kind of eye-closing.  This is what I call shut-eye high.  The high, of course, refers to my blood sugar.  I just checked and the meter says 191.  It’s been months since I’ve seen a number over 180.

Since my son is in the next room, I’m stopping myself from shouting out the F-word and instead, I’m going to blog out my frustration.  Hearing Mike saying the word insulin in a sing-song voice (as in hint, hint, you should take some), is yet another source of frustration.  Shouldn’t he, of all people, know better?

I have a very complicated relationship with insulin right now because I’m breastfeeding, which actually lowers my blood sugar.  I don’t like to find myself going low while I’m holding the baby, so I would rather ride a little high.  And I have been okay with finding myself at 150 -160 after meals, but 191 is just too high.  (Side note: sometimes I have giant anxiety attacks about what if Mike and I both go low while we’re sleeping.  So I’d rather be a little high at bedtime then face that.  Mike has fairly frequent nighttime lows.  Even if I don’t hear him get out of bed to go eat, in the morning I know what’s happened by the food wrappers and containers that he leaves on the counter).

I haven’t been exercising regularly for the last few weeks and this too has wrecked havoc on my blood sugar control. Control, control, control.  I need some.  I hereby pledge to count my carbs for real.  And I’m going to start moving again, no less than a two-mile walk in the morning!  I would go on, but my face is about to hit the keyboard.  And the baby is starting to cry…

But one more thing: I took this quiz, Are You Attached To Sugar.  It obviously isn’t designed for diabetics, but I really appreciated the photo of the loaf of bread flowing into sugar cubes.  My result says that I have an unhealthy relationship with sugar.  Go figure.

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12 years ago

Jess, I’m so sorry to hear about your rough night. I feel like living with diabetes is a constant, unending exercise in learning to forgive yourself (which I’m not particularly good at doing) . . . but try to remember that you really do an amazing job.

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