Wednesday, June 27, 2012

There’s no “particular” number

The one thing about Diabetes is there is no certainty. There is no consistency. There is no “ONE” number to let you know when things will go bad, either High or Low.

Take this morning for example, tested Clifford before he woke up to find him at 55. Woke him up, he drank a juice box, however something didn’t seem right, something was just “off”. His eyes were as if he was not really with me. He was only talking to me intermittently. Answering a question here and there, and between pauses just looking “not there”. Something told me to go grab more sugar, more something, I grabbed the icing and the glucagon, yes it was that “not there” that I thought we were going to need gluc.

I kept asking him questions, trying to get him to talk to me. The stupid icing didn’t have a hole poked into it, so I ran as fast as I could downstairs to stick a knife in it and back up to give it to him. In that short period of time he had crawled himself to our playroom and was just laying there. I ran in grabbed him up and had to hold him and pour icing into his mouth. Thankfully he was with me enough he was instinctively taking it in. But still something was “off”

I got in front of him and this is when the “twitching” started. I thought for certain we were on the verge of a seizure but he was 55! He has been lower with nothing like this ever happening. He would twitch with that crazed not there look in his eyes, then answer me. Then he just collapsed into my arms, he was still “with me” The icing was starting to take affect and he was coming back around, he was again answering me. I walked with him to his room and I could tell he had come to even more when he started crying at the sight of the glucagon needle in my hand ready to go.

No seizures, but on the verge of something bad. Thankfully I caught the low at 8am, and got him moving along in the right direction. He doesn’t remember it. He doesn’t remember me shaking as I was holding him and pouring icing into his mouth, fearing that something “BAD” was about to happen. He doesn’t remember just not being “with me”… He’s off playing and happy as can be. A bit high but that’s given from the treating that needed done to bring him back around. Good news, he doesn’t remember.

Bad news… I do.


  1. Oh man. (((SUPER HUGS))) How scary! Glad at least one of you won't remember. Damn am I ready for a cure.

  2. I know this feeling. It's with my husband, not my son. But it is scary and so hard to forget. I have had many of those moments within just the last couple of months. I'd be trying to keep my calm having him drink juice, glucose liquid, anything. He'd come to and I'd ask him what he remembers last. It was always long before he hit the point where I had to start taking care of him. Just know, you are not alone in your feelings. It doesn't make the fear go away, but for me, it at least makes me feel less alone and neurotic.

  3. So scary, sorry you had to go through that. Yep, I'll take a cure anyday now too.

  4. So sorry you both had to go through this! So ready for a cure..