I feel like I’m at a loss for words. Two lives lost to diabetes in the past 24 hours and a third reportedly hangs in the balance. My prayers and thoughts are with the families. I’m sad. I’m heartbroken. I’m angry. My rage is with diabetes.
The lows scare me. I’m certain they scare all of us, and our families. I went low one night, about fourteen years ago and still, it seems like only yesterday. To this day, I run my sugars high at night because of that night.
I had gone to bed without eating, a simple act that anyone without diabetes can do. Upset with a co-worker, I forgot to eat and fell asleep. My live-in boyfriend at the time found me soaked in sweat, shaking and unresponsive. He tried rubbing syrup in my cheeks to wake me – unfortunately he used sugar-free syrup…seriously. We had no glucagon and had never even heard of or been trained to use glucagon. Thankfully, he called 911.
I “woke” making noises like an animal in distress. I couldn’t speak. I was terrified. I couldn’t respond as they called my name. I literally had a problem with my own name for a while after that night, simply because the fire chief had continuously called my name in a rather stern tone, while he tried to calm me. “Combative” was the term they used to describe me.
I woke in the ER throwing up. They tried to feed me a banana and I threw up some more. I found this was a side effect of glucagon. My tongue was killing me and I found it was bloody and scarred from biting it during my low. It still has slight scarring to this day, reminding me of that unforgettable night.
No one should have to go through this. No one should have to be scared to go to sleep each night. No family should experience this senseless loss. We need a cure. Falling asleep at night without eating should not be a fatal mistake. I keep praying, fighting and wishing for that cure.