Not armed, but still dangerous

To myself that is.

This afternoon I began tripping over my own feet (really easy to do when wearing my Shape-ups). I am also smacking into door frames as I enter doorways. I am like this occasionally when my blood sugar is high, or I am in a big hurry.

Since I am not in any hurry, I should do a test and see if I need insulin. Sigh….  Being diabetic means your body runs your life. Adjustments to plans & schedules are not determined by anything I want or decide. My blood glucose level is the boss of me.

And yes, confirmed with a test, my blood sugar (or BS, for short) is high. I know why it is high – I actually ate when I was hungry.  Shame on me.

All the finger pricking is a pain in the ass, and I don’t care what the pharmaceutical companies proclaim – it hurts no matter what device they sell you. So… I probably needed some fast-acting insulin when I ate a couple of hours ago. Since dinner is in an hour, and my BS is almost 300 I take action. BS over 250 must be dealt with 2 units of insulin. And every 50 point intervals after that get an extra unit. So I do the math and conclude that 3 units gets loaded into the syringe and I “shoot up”.

My snack was a handful of crackers and a piece of cheese, so my BS must have been high to start with. I would have known this if I just pricked my finger and bled on a stick, but not me – I was hungry and I just ate something. I should (and do) know better.

I do not have to eat to raise my BS either. I could be coming down with a little cold and it goes up. I could be stressed out (when am I not???) and it goes up. My hormone levels disturb it, as much as they do my husband. Business meetings & travel really jack up the BS numbers.

So I must warn you:  Don’t piss me off,  because I could go into a coma…..