Holy Crap, I almost died. - Page 2

What do you call the cure to Diabetes?



I thought that was the funniest joke I'd ever heard, and I told it to another Diabetic who then tried to kill the person who originally told the joke.

I'm super bored. So I'm going to tell you about one man's struggle with

DUN DUN DUN

DIA BEE TUS!

If you don't know, Diabetes means your body sucks at handling blood sugar. Suffice it to say, diabetes is like trying to play that helicopter game. Get your blood sugar too high, it's really bad in the long term for your health; get it too low and you can seriously fuck yourself up or kill you. Eating makes your blood sugar go up, injecting insulin makes it go down. Keep the helicopter in the sweet spot.

It's really easy most of the time. You eat something, and then take some insulin to counter what you just ate. Things get complicated when your life gets in the way. When you were planning on eating something and forgot; when you were drinking; when you forgot that you exercised; when you left your insulin somewhere.

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On this fateful night, I fell victim to this mistake. I got home from work, and my blood sugar was a little high. Planning on eating dinner and not wanting to take two injections, I measured out enough to cover my current blood sugar and the increase from the dinner I was going to eat and took it while at my desk. It was at this point I remembered that Newbleague was starting up, and logged on to see if I was playing. I got a message saying my opponent had to go soon and to join his game.

Three hours later Newbleague was winding down and it was approaching 10:00, so I logged off and got ready for bed, not realizing that I hadn't eaten dinner.

...

I can faintly hear an alarm in the background. It feels like it's been ringing for so long. I recall the dream I was having. Laying in a minefield, trying not to set the mines off. I tell my leg to stretch and touch one of the mines - nothing moves. I focus really hard and give the order again. This time my leg moves slowly, but instantly gets the feel that it's going to charlie horse, so I pull it back.

The alarms still going. I feel wet. I feel hot and cold at the same time. Why is it so bright out? I open my eyes and focus on the alarm. I try to turn it off. My arm is asleep, but I didn't lay on it. Strange, the other one is asleep too. I'm so confused. I throw my dead-weight arm onto my alarm and manage to shut it off. My eyes instantly close. "Wait, something's wrong."

I sit up on the edge of bed (after 4 minutes of trying) and feel that all four of my appendeges are asleep. That doesn't make sense, that doesn't make sense at all. My starved mind is trying to put everything together. I stand up and gravity instantly reminds me of my weakened legs. This isn't going to work...

When I get into diabetic mode, I often think in my head through every little move. The end goal is in the refrigerator, which may as well be 2 miles away. In reality, I need to get to the end of the hallway, down the stairs, through another hallway, and I'll be home free.

I grab my footboard and pull myself up. Picture walking, but 3 times a second your muscles fall limp. That's what walking in this state is like. I try to lean onto something so that my center of gravity is above it, so when I inevitably fall, I'll be okay.

It's been about ten minutes since I woke up now, and I've reached my bedroom door. A few minutes later and I'm at the top of the steps. No use risking it, I sit down and slide down the steps in a few seconds. Back on flat ground, the handrail I was using upstairs is no more, meaning I'll have to support myself with vertical walls.

While this is going on, my mind is worrying me in the background. I've remembered at this point that I only have a few minutes of sugar left in me. After that, no one will find me until 4pm tonight. The worry pushed me forward. I turn a hallway corner and collapse. Time is valuable, I pull myself back up and steady myself on the wall. Up ahead, disaster. The basement door (open) is on the right, and the hallway continues to the left. There's nothing to hold on to between there and here. In my mind I'm repeating "please don't fall downstairs, please don't fall downstairs." I aim for the left and push myself off, landing just beside the door and grabbing onto the wall.

I can see the pantry now, and I quickly slide down the wall and into the pantry. My first sight is a bottle of honey, which I grab and twist the lid off of. Graet, the honey is solid on the bottom. I die inside laughing at this. Next to it is the peanut butter. I grab a handful and smeer it all in and around my face. I can actually feel the sugar being distributed through my body, but peanut butter isn't ideal. I stumble over to the fridge and test my luck. Gatorade. Jackpot.

When you have low blood sugar, you start losing your senses in order of importance:

taste
smell
touch
hearing
sight

When you drink something really sugary, the senses flood back in the same order. It's kind of strange, but your fingertips go from completely numb to getting feeling back. I knew I would be alright when the smell of peanut butter came rushing in my nose. You can also feel the sugar travelling down your arms and legs to your hands and feet.

And that's it. That's the worst diabetic attack that I've ever been conscious for. I've had one's where I wake up with quite low blood sugar, but never where my arms and legs were actually asleep.