Yesterday was a wonderful day full of small adventures and happy times. My husband I stumbled on a mysterious place (to me) in search of a scrap piece of metal for a fence we are building. I had an idea and he knew of a place and it turned out to be a magical discovery for me. Fun was had by all.
Later we went to lunch at a favorite restaurant, ran into some friends there, and had a spontaneous meal with them. So fun! We then came home and puttered about, did some more errands and settled in for the night. We started to think about dinner, looking for something simple and healthy to make. There's a wonderful farmer's market we go to where we get the best soup from a local vendor. We freeze it for nights just like last night, when it's cool and we're in need of a warm, hearty meal. We baked some rolls, made a salad and had the perfect, delicious meal.
Or so I thought. I'd tested before and calculated my carbs and insulin needs accordingly. But somehow I must have miscalculated with epic proportions. 3 hours later I tested as I always do before bed and much to my utter amazement, I was 360! 360! I couldn't believe my eyes. What the hell? I've just started using a new meter, so I tested again to make sure it was accurate. Same number! I pulled out my old meter to just make totally sure and there it was again, 360. I was shocked. I didn't have any of the usual symptoms I have when I'm this high. No choking thirst, no blurry eyes, no urgent need to pee. What was going on here?
Somehow I'd simply miscalculated the amount of carbs in our delicious meal I guess. Miscalculated in the glow of my lovely day. Miscalculated in the number of carbs in the wonderful soup that doesn't come with a label with carb information. Miscalculated in my self assured, lack of curiosity to take a little time to investigate the contents to make sure I was covering myself accurately. I slipped up, and boy did I fall because of it. Yikes.
I feel really stupid. I know that this stuff happens and I should cut myself some slack. I really do know it. But still I feel so dumb, so spanked, so presumptuous that I could somehow just go with the flow. That I could just float on the glow of a wonderful day and not do what I need to do as a diabetic. I know I'm being hard on my self, but still that's how I feel.
I'm feeling warn out this morning. I went to bed late because I stayed up to make sure that I brought my blood sugar down reasonably rather than in a manic crash. I woke up early because, though I had been careful last night, I was a little low this morning. What's interesting to me is at least I'm finally acknowledging the physical toll a high like this takes on me. I didn't do that much before. But now I see it.
What's more interesting still is that I'm not sure I'm truly seeing the emotional toll it takes too. More accurately put, I see it, but only after a bit. Only after I've kicked myself around a little first. It's only after the initial flush of criticism and disappointment that I see what I'm doing, and though I notice it and work to stop myself, that first shame and recrimination has already taken a little something from me too. I guess the goal is to stop doing this to myself sooner. To eventually not go there at all. Yes, I know that that is the goal. I guess, as always, living with diabetes is a work in progress.