I've been bungee jumping again. Only, it seemed that the cord broke after a couple of bounces.
For most of the day I've been floating in the 300s after a very low 75 this morning. At the church Christmas party they served spaghetti, rolls and tons of dessert. Carbalicious!! I could have gone heavy on the salad but...I didn't.
Oh, it all looked so good.
According to the meter, I was still high, so I added in a correction with the shot to cover dinner and dessert. Man, the food was tasty.
After the party I walked to Malchik's house and visited with him and his family. I had a ton of fun up there. Before I left, I checked my blood sugar to see how I was doing before I walked home. It rang in at 76. Best number I've seen all day. But it was a bit too low for my comfort so ate some glucose tabs and headed on my way.
A few hours later I was sitting out front with dad surfing the net and watching TV. I noticed that I was losing focus on what I was reading and that my heart had started pounding. An error and about ten finger pricks later, the meter read 72. What the heck? I ate some more glucose tabs and returned to the Internet. 15 minutes later: 112. Finally. Then the symptoms hit again. This time my head was pounding and my heart was racing. I was so shaky I was having a hard time contacting the blood to the test strip.
"Damn it, sit still." I commanded.
My dad looked over at me and then told Mom over the phone, "Jessica is yelling at her blood."
"Well you would too." I defended.
When I finally caught it, the meter glared a 66 at me.
"What the flip! What the heck is going on?" I yelled in frustration.
Dad looked over with concern. "What's up?"
"I can't keep my flippin' stupid, idiotic blood sugar up and I'm starting to get a bit pissed!" I shouted at him. "No matter how many glucose tabs I eat, it keeps dropping."
"Then go eat some cake."
He was referring to that turkey I showed in my earlier post.
So I went to the kitchen and pulled off a leg and started chewing on it. I'd gotten half way through it when the cat decided that she was gonna get sick on the carpet. Oh no you don't! So I set down my turkey leg and ran to get her on the linoleum. I didn't get her fast enough but I ran her to the laundry room just in case she wasn't done. I walked back to the hall and cleaned it up.
It was a few minutes before I got back to the kitchen to finish my turkey leg. Only problem was that I couldn't find it. I couldn't remember where I set it down. I looked all over the kitchen trying to track it down. It wasn't anywhere. I checked all the counters, the cake plate, the garbage, the fridge (I've been know to put stuff in weirder places when I'm not low.) It had disappeared. Dad walked in and asked what was up.
"I lost my turkey leg."
"Well it's gotta be here somewhere." As he began to search too.
We both looked everywhere including the laundry room.
"Where the heck could I have put it?"
"Hell if I know. There's no rhyme or reason when it comes to where you put stuff.
"It'll walk out in about six months and declare its arrival."
What was going on today? Hell if I know!
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