It’s a week before xmas and I am running around the house, making dinner, cleaning up dinner, chopping and throwing yummies in the slow cooker for tomorrow’s feat after Teagan’s xmas recital. The kids are building a fort as my husband pretends to be a zombie attacking their hard work and I am running upstairs to put laundry away and layout clothes for tomorrow. Ahh, I need to refill my dates in my nightstand as last night I had an unexpected horrible low and I need to take my evening shot. I take the folded towels to the bathroom and brush my teeth as eating is done for the day, and did I take my shot? I wasn’t certain what dose I should give tonight bc of the scary low last night and I wonder if my CGM moved sine I last checked 15 minutes ago. This sounds OCD but my insulin sensitivity has been so sensitive this week. I go downstairs, I am certainly distracted and I recall, did I take a shot? Did I brush my teeth? For the life of my I can’t remember. If I take an extra shot I will 100% dove my body into a hypoglycemic coma. If I don’t take it I will suffer for the next 4 days, being miserable on xmas and our flight overseas. I pray. I pray fucking harder than I have had before and I resolve to trusting god and that I shouldn’t take another shot and whatever happens I will work to correct it.
I woke up the next day with near perfect blood sugar.
