Last night, I had wine and pizza. I had been hypo most of the afternooon (we had walked to see a friend's degree art show, and the walk had turned out to be about twice the distance we'd be told and it was really, really hot). I'd spotted a downward trend before I hit the 3s and had 3 dextrose tablets to bring me up a bit. And...nothing. I stayed in the 3s for what felt like HOURS (was more like 1 - 2 hours) before heading above 4. In all I had roughly half a packet of dextrose, which is way more than I would normally need. Thankyou, heat.
An hour post-pizza I was 14.4. I didn't correct. I'm not happy with levels like that, but I knew the bolus still had plenty of time to work. Half an hour later, 12.0.
1.38am, 2.3mmol/l. That's 41, for the USers.
It was one of those lows where you wake up DRENCHED in sweat and barely able to lift your head from the pillow. I keep my testing kit and hypo treatment within grabbing distance, so I could stab the straw into the OJ cartoon and drink it whilst still curled up. I waited 15 min, retested and got a 2.9. Still shaking like a leaf and stumbling, I went downstairs where I demolished a slice of my mum's homemade orange and lemon cake (SO DAMN GOOD), a packet of crisps and 2 biscuits. Yeah, too much. I was concerned that I have a habit of dropping anyway overnight, I wanted to have more 'room' to drop.
I woke up on a 12.2, again not wonderfully but I can deal with that after a ridiculous afternoon of hypos and then mega hypo at night. Although all day I've been running on the high side, thinking about it. I'm back down below 10 now, so I'm happy with that.
Now, for some more of that amazing cake...