I stand. I’m not quite sure what to do, the lights are flashing, I look up to see if I can work out what I’m supposed to do but I feel confused. I know I need food but I also have to pay and I just can’t work out where the tills are. I don’t know how long I stand there, minutes, but I know I need to move.
I had been busy, focussed, trying to fit stuff in and get everything done. I had popped out to buy a present for a girl who was leaving and we didn’t have too much time so we needed to crack on. I suspect I felt a bit light headed then but I was absolutely focussed on task, it was only afterwards that I realised I needed to eat.
No matter what everyone tells you about being prepared, that’s all fine, but when my brain is struggling and thoughts are fuzzy I am not always as logical as I could be. I did have hypo treatment tablets in my bag but I seemed to have forgotten all about those. Believe it or not in a city centre buying food, preferably fast acting junk food, isn’t as easy as it sounds. I bought some Jellies from Thornton’s and crammed a few into my mouth, barely chewing, merely trying to ingest as quickly as possible.
Sometimes, for some reason that doesn’t always seem to bear any relevance to logic, it seems harder to bring my blood glucose up. It’s a rare event but nevertheless happens now and again. I needed something to drink, something with sugar. I knew what I needed to do. I walked through the shop doorway and stood.
I stand a while. No one seems to notice. I close my eyes and try to think. I walk a few steps, wander past the isles. I see a fridge and eventually a grab a drink. But where are the tills? I feel mildly panicky. I can’t drink the drink without paying can I?
This happened to me two weeks ago. I manage this day, as I have managed for 36 years. Eventually I feel marginally better and slowly make my way back to the office. I tell no one and get on with my work. I know that there will be an inevitable rebound high so I keep a close eye on my blood glucose but giving myself more insulin seems counter-intuitive and I worry – too little and I will feel rubbish through ketones, too much and I will bounce down again…. It feels a little bit like Russian roulette.
I tell no one because I don’t want pity. I get on with some work but pack up early and make my way home.
I feel like I have the worst hang-over ever. My head feels sore and slow, my brain reacting to the lack of glucose, objecting and asking me to slow down.
Somehow it seems worse, the recovery, as I get older. It takes me longer to bounce back, to be on top form. This time the feeling of other-world-ness and being in a different space to everyone else persists for another day.
Do you know what it’s like to feel seriously hypoglycaemic?
Here is what a few of my twitter friends with Type 1 said when I asked them: