Well, it happened again. After going ten years without any severe lows, since last November, I’ve now had four. At least I think the tally is now four – I’m starting to lose track. I know this was the second time since January that Jason called 911, although luckily, I was lucid by the time they arrived this time.
Jason awoke about 3:30AM Saturday morning because I was restless. He touched my arm, and felt that I was drenched in sweat. His account was a little unclear because at some point during the ordeal, he started to lose it. He got me some juice, but he was having some difficulty getting me to drink it so he got a straw. I was acting weird by then though, and Jason said my tongue was sticking out and looked swollen so even with a straw, getting me to drink juice was presenting a challenge.
Somewhere amidst the chore of managing me, Jason found himself with another issue on his hands though. You see, we’ve been battling a somewhat minor ant problem the last couple of summers. We had been using bait to eradicate the little boogers, the kind they supposedly take back to their nest so the nest is killed. Last summer it seemed to work, so Jason got the same stuff, and had been using it this past week. It seemed to work, but they appeared again Friday evening, albeit, not to the extent we’d seen them the previous weekend, so Jason applied more of the bait. Following up on the ants was put on the endless To-Do list that comes with a 50+ year old house.
So one of the times Jason came downstairs to get juice, a straw or possibly a glucagon kit, he noticed some flying bugs on the front door. Then he started looking, and noticed a swarm of them on the outside of the window screen that’s adjacent to the front door. Flying ants. He went to the basement to get the jug of insect spray he sprays on the outside perimeter of the house as needed, and then he went to work, at 4AM, trying to kill the unexpected intruders.
When he thought he’d gotten them, he returned to find me precariously on the edge of his side of the bed. He rolled me back to my side, and in light of my continued state, he decided it was time for the glucagon. He prepared it, and then held me steady as best he could while he jabbed my thigh. Then it was a matter of making sure I didn’t roll out of bed, periodically interrupted by running downstairs to kill any straggling ants. When my moaning and whatever I was doing with my body – not a seizure in the more conventional sense, but I don’t know what else to call it – didn’t appear to be subsiding despite the glucagon, Jason called 911.
We live in a tiny borough so it doesn’t take more than a couple of minutes before someone shows up. I started to emerge from my state of unawareness right after Jason called though. I was still out of it, but I was lucid enough that I wanted to put on more clothes before emergency personnel arrived. No sooner did Jason help me put on a shirt when the police officer arrived at our door, followed moments later by the paramedics. The paramedics verified I knew who I was and where I was, and that my BG was headed in the right direction before insisting that Jason feed me some peanut butter to make sure my BG stayed up. I didn’t feel like arguing, and in light of the fact that I buy the low sugar peanut butter with only 5 carbs per serving, I wasn’t overly concerned that a spoon of peanut butter was going to wreak havoc on my BG later. As I licked peanut butter off a spoon, I signed the form declining a ride to the hospital, and just like that, they were gone.
Jason explained everything that had happened, including the flying ants. He indicated to me that he almost had a break down in the middle of the chaos. He changed the sheets which were soaking wet as usual, we got showers, and then we climbed back into bed. He was still running on adrenaline so he got on his laptop, and concluded that we have carpenter ants. The queens like to emerge and swarm, especially after lots of rain – which is all we get anymore – so they can mate and establish new colonies. Or something like that. Since we think we know what kind of ants they are, we have to figure out how to get rid of them since it seems most ant baits aren’t effective on carpenter ants. That’s a whole other issue though.
Despite my expectation that I’d be chasing a fierce high on Saturday, when I awoke later Saturday morning, I was “only” 249mg/dL. All things considered, I was relatively happy with that reading. As for why I had the low in the first place, the only thing I can think of is that I took too much insulin with the snack I had later Friday evening.
I did check my CGM once the paramedics had left, and it had held steady at 70mg/dL throughout the ordeal. Overall, my complaints about the Minimed CGM have been nominal, but THIS was the primary reason I wanted one, and this is not the first time it’s proven to be inaccurate at a rather critical time. The more I use it, and the more I hear more favorable things about Dexcom from those who use it and have had the opportunity to compare both devices, the more irritated I am that my insurance company only approved the Minimed version.
I am having a lot of thoughts and feelings about this latest incident – beyond my current disappointment with the MM CGM – but I’m still mentally working through it. You can probably expect a post or two to come from this once I organize my thoughts better though.