Lows

I've been having lows for about a week and a half, every day. 65, 50. The kind that make me feel all shaky and animal-like so that I want to barrel people out of my way and get as much food down my throat as possible because my body thinks I'm going to die. Parts of me do die when I'm low. Brain cells mostly. In the class I went to about type 1 the nurse was mentioning how when they do CAT scans of people with diabetes they can easily tell the people who had lows frequently because there are all kinds of dead brain areas.

I have to stop myself from eating more and wait 15 minutes. That's what they say: 15 carbs, 15 minutes. 15 grams of carbs is enough to get you back in the safe zone from anything but being in a coma, and for that there is a big shot someone has to give you. In those 15 minutes I think a lot about what brain cells I just killed off. The ones that control my breathing? The ones that are part of my sense of humor? The ones that light up when I hear D's name? I feel responsible for it, but I know I'm not, totally. Not yet. Because my little beta-cells are fighting back, trying to live and make insulin for me still and I guess that's too much insulin with what I give myself and whatever my body is making.

They call this the "honeymoon phase." I hope real honeymoons are better, because this one sucks.

I called my diabetes nurse and she talked with the doctor and I'm taking 1 less unit of my basal insulin. She thinks that will help. I'm giving it a go. Giving it a go is the only option for life. I'm trying not to be ungrateful that I get to live, but the other day I had a little pity party for myself. 2 tears max. It won't always be so hard. Eventually my pancreas will be all dead, and there won't be any natural interference for me. That'll be ok.