Today, was our quarterly planning session for work. The weather was springlike, and I had been staring out the conference room winow from 38 floors up much of the afternoon thinking of what it would be like to be outside, rather than discussing new products and team dysfunctions.
When we finished up at about 4 pm, I felt truly blessed by the opportunity to dash home and head out for a run in the park. Sort of like I was getting away with something naughty but fun even though none of us were heading back to the office. BG had been running high all day, and before I left for home it registered 228. Not great, but a good run should bring it down. So I cut my basal in half and drove home.
Changed clothes, leashed dog #4 (Katie, my running buddy), and headed out. Walked a little to warm up and then we started to run. Felt absolutely devoid of energy from the get-go, but figured I just needed to get the kinks worked out, get into the groove, or maybe find just the right song on my ipod. A half mile later, felt even less energetic. Thought "no way could I be low coming off that 228 and a reduced basal". Then I noticed that I was getting dizzy and felt detached from my body. The meter was at home, so I ate four glucose tabs and made a turn that would take me home. Katie was acting awful and trying to veer into the yards along the way...definitely NOT helping.
I got home in some state that felt like floating and lumbering all at the same time, and registered at 56 on the Flash meter. Not that bad, but that was after 16 grams of glucose about 10 minutes before. Made half a peanut butter and banana sandwich and sat down, just in time for hubby to arrive home. He asked if I was low, and I said yes. I don't know why, but peanut butter is a favorite low chaser for me, and he knows this.
Instead of treating the low and then getting on with life, I gave in to it this time. Told hubby that I wanted to skip the gym tonight, to which he was totally agreeable. I felt terrible, still devoid of any energy or drive to accomplish anything. It is such a desparate and out of control feeling. When my BG is coming back up, I have a tendency to get cold, so I covered up and invited Katie to lay down with me. We napped for about 20 minutes, and then got up to make a dinner of frozen thin crust pizza and watch American Idol.
Giving in to a low like that, skipping a workout night, and not marching on feels like a defeat in some ways. But on some level it also feels like a victory in allowing myself to be vulnerable and human. This disease is a teacher in forgiving myself and others, and for that I am grateful. But it is also a b-i-t-c-h!