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So Diabetes, Remind Me Never to Do That Again


This was a big "Ooopsy" And at the time I was doing it, I knew that. Somewhere in my primal reptilian, limbic brain I just knew it was wrong and would result in nothing good coming out of it. In my limited and somewhat flimsy defense, I have to say I was trying to reward myself for a job well done through the whole rest of the day.


Seriously, my numbers yesterday were nothing short of stellar; my carb intake was phenomenal, my fat intake astounding, my protein intake right on the fuckin money, my calorie intake, while not what I would call incredible, it was adequate and as a result my bg numbers through the day hovered consistently from 80 mg/dl to 95 mg/dl. Right in that sweet sweet spot I am aiming for. Not only were my testing numbers something that I marveled at, my insulin usage I adjusted to match these numbers down to less than half of what I normally do in the course of a day.

Wow, this LCHF (Low-carb, high-fat) woe (way of eating) is really doing the trick and the most important things is that my numbers and my poor diabetes ravaged body are loving it like a (pardon the very inappropriate pun) like a fat kid eating cake!

So whats wrong now. Why is my limbic brain slapping you around, you may be asking yourself.

I ate fruit. Not even fruit, watermelon. The devil of the fruit.

The woe (way of eating) that I have adopted, fruit is pretty much a no-no. Used in very sparingly portions you might be able to indulge in it every few weeks and just understand that it is going to spike your bg. But that is a risk that you knowingly face.

Yup, there you go. there you have it, fruit, the LCHF poison. The one thing I knew, I KNEW was going to send my bg into the clouds and I decided that that was what I needed in that weak, headdy moment of celebration last night. Ugh. No, fucking UGH.

I must have had a couple of cups of diced watermelon and I lived to regret it.All the while my hubby was sitting there giving me sideways glances asking me benign little questions like;

" So, when your bg goes up, over your target numbers I mean, well do you feel it?"
No.
"Oh. I mean you can't feel anything happening inside you that would tell you enough is enough...if you were, say, eating something you shouldn't be?"
 No.
 "Oh, okay. So you just test with those little strip thangies and THEN you know if you ate something you shouldn't have?"
 Yes.
 "So how long before you test after ingesting something?"
 What the fuck? Why are you taking such an interest now, can't you see I want to drive my numbers up? Can't you see I just want to eat like a normal person for a change? Can't you see that I am being a total dumbshit and that I want to see my numbers raise to something near 250 mg/dl and then beat myself up afterwards???!!! Geez! Husbands.

Well I got what I wanted after all. I new what was happening and I told hubby as much, I also told him I refused to test before bed. I would just dose myself with my long-acting insulin and let the night do her work. But, I also knew that two wrongs don't make a right and if I was going to put in my big girl panties and stop burying my head in the sand over this very invasive, devastating and life changing disease - I had to test. So I did.

248 mg/dl. I think my meter groaned long before I did.

I havn't seen that type of number since the first week after my A1c came back at 13.5.

After a night of sleep and a shot of Levimir, my numbers are back in acceptable range. I woke at 92 mb/dl.

Time to climb back on that horse and make it my bitch.....

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