1/8/13 What I Choose To Celebrate Today (Every Failure Contains a Lesson)
Tuesday, January 08, 2013
I was having a great day. My sugars were staying under 200 (I've had regular sugar readings in the past of 600+ ... and have spent much time in the ER), I was sticking to the plan, it was all going well until about an hour before the end of the school day. I started feeling ill, not right. In fact, my first thought was that I was getting the flu. It's going around, and this season is scary, so I went straight to thinking it was the flu.
I have a couch in my classroom (long story related to the drama department) so I laid down hoping it would pass because I had a meeting in the afternoon. In fact, I felt so bad that if I didn't have that meeting, I would have asked to go home. But I stuck it out.
It dawned on me, check your sugars!
My doctor set goal right now is 110. So a range between 100-120 is considered my current normal. After all, 600+ was my normal just over a year ago and we've been working it down and now I'm at 110 as the goal.
My sugar was at 72.
No wonder I felt like that.
I had no glucose tablets, I didn't have any carb based snacks. Just a salad that I was saving for the meeting, but no fast acting carbs. I couldn't think of anything and the meeting was 10 minutes away.
I went to the bathroom, and as I was washing my hands, they were shaking. I felt like I was going to pass out in the bathroom. It was so exasperating. At that point I decided I would have to get a snack before the gym but I had to go to this meeting first.
At the meeting, a plate of cookies were set down right in front of me. OMG, cookies. At this point it felt like a God send. I grabbed up a cookie and inhaled it. These were not small cookies, there were like the size of your face, a child's dream cookie. Before I knew it I was on cookie number two, then three. As the meeting was going, I was grabbing cookie after cookie. I was trying to break it into pieces to slow me down. A coworker, who is also diabetic, was looking at me and shaking her head, as if trying to stop me off at the pass. I was embarrassed. I was publicly binging on these cookies. I felt like some kind of desperate animal. People were noticing, but I kept reaching for cookie after cookie. By myself I probably ate half the plate.
Then I felt sick after the meeting from eating the cookies. I had even taken my sugars after the third cookie and I was at 115, and knew I should stop, but I couldn't stop. It was like I was possessed. No number of cookies were satisfying this craving. I was compelled to eat and eat. It didn't even bother me that people were watching. My diabetic coworker looked concerned and disgusted at the same time. I just couldn't satisfy the hunger.
I felt too sick to go to the gym. I went home to take a nap between jobs. I went into a sugar coma once I got home. I hated how I felt. I hated what I did. I hated feeling weak.
What do you celebrate on a day like this?
That's why I do a celebration every day, so that I can find good from the bad, and so I can enforce what is good. Not every day can be a good day, like today wasn't a good day, but something good can come out of something bad.
I choose to celebrate that I recognize that I need a back up plan. I need to start carrying glucose tablets on me at all times in case I have a drastic drop like this again. I need to concentrate on safely bringing my sugars back up. I celebrate that my change in diet and exercise is helping my insulin work again, even if it is now working too well. Insulin can be adjusted. I will talk to my doctor about it on Tuesday.
I choose to learn from my failures, not be defined by them. Now it is time for bed. Tomorrow I have a date at the gym with my daughter. I also told a different coworker I was going, because she goes too and wants to go together.
It's going to be OK. Just breathe.