Type 1 life adventures
With the first sip of the UDL I was having a Blue Light Disco flashback. Back then it was two sculled cans in the public toilets to the rear of the shire hall, and my signature aeroplane dance moves were on.
As a grown up I don’t need alcohol to dance like a lunatic. As a T1 diabetic I can also be a pretty cheap shout and yet still end up seeming kind of smashed, as blurry pictorial evidence herewith demonstrates. This happens when you dance on peak insulin.
I didn’t expect to be bopping around so soon after eating dinner and shooting up. But when Dr Lee and I arrived at the tiny hall in the paddock, the 50s/60s vibe of this year’s Lyonville Fireman’s Ball had us up and jumping. We may not have had all the moves, but then the singer didn’t exactly have all the tunes and pitch right either. Bless him, but it was jolly good fun.
It’s normal for me to develop more than a healthy sheen when I dance. Ok, my head actually gives off steam. But with even less than my standard blue light disco downage I was suddenly feeling dizzy, drunk-like, sweaty as a bastard and puffed and tired. Hypo.
So began a weekend of hypo hell like I’ve never experienced before. It’s like I developed a strangely sensitive reaction to insulin out of nowhere. Certainly my systems were reacting strangely to something because I began vomiting on the way home from the ball. I really wished I’d replenished the tissue stocks in the glove box.
Once home I was on the revolting ride of hypoing and spewing at the same time and being quite agitated about it all. I had to force feed myself, listen to Dr Lee’s food advice and get my sugars up before I could go to bed. I just wanted to sleep it all off (which is a symptom of the hypo and your body slowing down).
Next morning I was off to work at a local café. Busy as buggery and there I was crashing again. All day. I just could not get my blood sugar up. The only consolation was eating a piece of Mara’s meringue mousse pistachio cake that I’d always eyed off but had never dared ventured near. Now it was my lifeline!
But this was just a temporary fix to keep me upright. That kind of cheap carb means crashing down again and by Sunday night I was back again visiting the threes. It was confusing and totally frustrating in a way I’ve not encountered before for such a sustained time.
It’s possibly my body’s way of telling my mind and body to cool the jets for a little bit and regroup. So, alas no hikes this week. Just getting back to a decent baseline without over doing it.