Yesterday after a group, I walk to the train station with a fellow group member, ride the el, get off the el, see that the bus isn't there yet and walk two blocks, look for the bus and it's not in sight yet, think.
Hey, maybe I'm hypo.
Think, maybe I should wait until I get home to test, I've tested too many times today already (I have a scrip for 8 per day, but my endo wants me to do less).
A sob rises and I muffle it, think I must be hypo if I'm sobbing.
Think, can't put my backpack down in this snow.
So I turn and wear it on my tummy, pull out my kit. Insert test strip, cock tester, poke finger, blood on strip. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.
Oh, snap. 30!
How many rolls should I eat?
I eat three rolls of imitation smarties, 6g each makes 18g.
Think, this will, if I'm not on my way down, bring me to about 130 (I go up between 5 and 6 mg/dl per gram of carb).
The bus comes and I board, still shaky.
I try to find someway that I would know. Some thing that 30 renders me unable to do. Count backwards from 200? Can do. See people? Can do. Hold still? Can do.
30 is the second lowest number I've ever had.