…thankfully didn’t get a visit from me. A quick update following last Wednesday’s post. The brief version is that insulin pumps and CGMS are wonderful things and at this moment I won’t hear a word against them. Now for the slightly longer version.
On Wednesday evening I stopped taking the evil drugs that were making me need insulin by the bucket. Then I prepared my ropes for a challenging abseil down from the dizzy glucose heights I’ve been frequenting for the past week.
I’d feared a catastrophic plummet down into the Valley of the Hypos where zombies walk freely and glucogel slime oozes down the streets. Where you’re constantly in a cold sweat, your legs are made of blancmange and your body is no longer under your own control.
I secured my safety line by reducing my basal rates down to my pre-drugs level and stopped doubling all carb boluses. Next step was to stake out the low. On Thursday morning I sat quietly, armed with juice box mortars and fruit pastille grenades waiting for the anticipated hypo to sneak up at any time.
My CGMS was never far from my side, I felt like a fighter pilot constantly scanning the radar for incoming attack of the low blood sugar variety.
Then it came. At first a gentle decline, soon gathering pace. I checked my ammo:
- Basal rate reduced – check
- No insulin on board – check
- Verify CGMS reading with finger prick – check
- More sugar on stand-by than I could possibly need – check
The downward trend slowed but continued. I fired a warning shot across the bows and ate an apple. The trend slowed further. At 4.7 with no insulin on board I had my finger on the trigger of the juice box mortar but held my fire. I’ll give that incoming low 20 minutes to turn round and retreat, or else its both barrels with the juice box.
CGMS started to creep upwards giving me scores like a mediocre ice dancing competitor – 4.7, 4.7, 4.8, 5. Success! The Valley of the Hypos will not be receiving visitors today.