Confessions of a low

So the other day I did blog about some of my own sugar struggles. I am thankful for the comments you all have made and the support/ability to just get these things out in the open. So I figure I might as well continue to express my own issues and stuff with bloody (no pun intended lows). It's a Sunday so there is no reason to use the words I want to use.... yet.

Last night I spent about 25 minutes chilling in the back of an ambulance thanks to an attack of a low. I state that I am fine, no issues, the only thing damaged was my pride and record of not needing an ambulance called.

The story, I went out to dinner with my friend Kevin and his fiancee, it is ironic though that these things tend to always happen around my friend Kevin, the last time we did a real dinner together he had to rush and get me OJ. That is another tale, possibly. Anyway, we went to a Thai restaurant, which I enjoy, me forgetting just how extremely slow the service is in the place. Before we left my BS was more or less steady at about 70 so I figured all was good. (Forgetting the combo bolus I had done earlier to handle my cheese rich lunch at 3:00). Anyway, we place the order and waited for our food and waited and waited. We spoke about their upcoming wedding. Beepy chilling in my pocket doing nothing out of the ordinary. Just chilling. No noises. Still no food. Apparently that's when the combo bolus had hit it's full peak and I crashed.

I mean big time. Kevin asked me if I was okay. My gruff response yes. He asked how my sugar was and I told him fine, angrily (I warned him what the signs were for the future). After that I don't remember much. I mean I seem to remember getting my white rice (NOT BROWN bastards). Yet that is all. The next thing I know I am enjoying the company of 4 EMT's (who were awesome, gotta respect them) in the back of an ambulance. At that point when they were going over me, my sugar was 38.

So they put all of these leads and stuff on me (lost so much arm hair) and basically found a vein and crammed an equivalent of a can of soda into my system. I did recover and felt fine at 138, but was also really nauseous for the rest of the night. The thing is that Beepy did not catch anything, not that I blame him. It was a new sensor and well it was still adjusting to what needed to be done. I blame myself and my own issues with the lows, as well as forgetting the combo bolus. I do blame the restaurant for their slow service and also when my friend tried to get OJ or Soda the waitress did nothing. In the end it is my fault.

The only "bad" thing that really came of this also comes from the inability of my friend to call my dad for help. My phone was locked and he could not get info. My ICE while it was there does nothing since the iPhone does nothing to allow them to get to that emergency information when the phone is locked. I am not happy with that. I need to figure something out, in case someone ever needs to check my phone again. I mean there are apps. out there, but nothing like my Droid had for my ICE contacts being able to be contacted even when the phone was locked.  Maybe one of you has that solution.

This though is just proof why the medic alert is so important if nothing else. Because to my friend who knew, his hands were figuratively tied. It was an accident. Mine but I still kinda pass the blame to the poor service of the restaurant who lost three customers, I don't blame them, but when someone asks for SODA or OJ in an immediately, well help the person out. I worked in a restaurant I know the demands can be tough when you are busy and service can be slow, I don't blame the slowness either. Alas, it was a lesson learned, but it ended well in the end, which is what I think is truly important.

*Disclaimer* I am fine, if someone finds this and is all like DUDE don't blame the restaurant, I really am not. I know it's my blame and fault, but still... I am sticking to my guns. Speaking of there are truly some days I wish I was not Italian/Hungarian. It would make my life or removal of tape and stickies so much easier. Those damned heart rate leads hurt like a witch and I found another one still on me this morning, after I thought I had gotten rid of them all. Sigh. But truly this is not a normal disclaimer and well if you know me, you should be used to it.