Unfortunately, regardless of my fairly spotless record with Dexcom's accuracy, today did not reassure me that it works well. My Egg-shaped-friend (Eggy for those of you who are friends) beeped away ALL day. 2 of the 35 times were actually correct. The rest were waaaaaaaaaaaaay outta whack. But because I stopped trusting it, I missed the really bad one this evening.
After my 7 hour drive, my mom requested that I attend a dinner party at the neighbors. Drive, dress, dine (wheeeeeeee, not). Dinner was quite fabulous even though I didn't eat very much. I was much more enamored by all the little kids around, but I digress.
Most of the riveting conversation of the evening revolved around the children's food allergies and the struggles that they bring. I listened intently and gently prodded about difficult moments. Having diabetes changes my relationship with food, but exclusionary diets are extremely painstaking to maintain especially when those food cause life threatening reactions. Everyone was sympathetic, but only the two moms of kids with allergies REALLY got it.
Later, the conversation turned to fashion. Particularly, my custom "culturally" appropriate pants with pockets. Most Pakistani pants are baggy and don't include pockets. My mom had to pay the tailor extra for each one, but I was rather happy to have somewhere to put Eggy and my cell phone. That was when the conversation turned to "You're diabetic? Explain ALL of it." Usually, I over explain it but I did my best to squeeze in the vital information before dessert was served. Then, I casually walked over and explained how carb-counting worked. Fairly normal for me to SWAG (Scientific Wild Ass Guess) the carbs in a homemade dessert. I looked and sounded very convincing. I felt convincing. UNTIL, an hour later when I was tucking myself into bed.
PJs? Check. Brushed Teeth? Check. Blood sugar? I kept putting it off. I kept reading things on my phone and started getting this strange sensation of tunnel focus (just off the tip of my nose). I heard Eggster buzzing away but ignored him because of his track record. The feeling of tunnel focus was starting to make me uneasy so I pulled out my Mini and tested to find a fabulous (not) reading of 33 mg/dl. Eggy says nothing but Low (dun dun dunnnn). And then it all started to make sense. I ran downstairs for a tall glass of orange juice. Waited 15 minutes. 45 mg/dl. Not quite right. More orange juice followed by some rice cause (surprise!) I was STARVING.
In the end, the story has a happy ending. I leveled out nicely to a 110 mg/dl after it was all said and done. The scary feeling was the knowing something was wrong but my lack of ability to do anything about it. It's been happening more and more with my lows and I don't know how to snap out of it. My focus was fixed but not on what I needed to survive but some little lighted screen in the palm of my hand. Gotta fix that. Gotta listen. There are always signs. Little breadcrumbs. Gotta follow them to keep my life with D on track for survival.