it all started monday night. it was my good friend's birthday, and we were out gallivanting around the city. i got home around 2:30 and went to bed at 3. sure, this is pretty ridiculous given that i have to be at work at 9, but hey, you only live once, right? i can handle nights like these every once in a while.
but then, tuesday. all day i was acting like a crazy person at work, and my coworkers were laughing at me because of it. i somehow mustered up the energy to go the gym, but while on the elliptical i was beginning to question why i ever thought going to the gym on 4 hours of sleep after a full day of work was a good idea. also, i had tentative plans to go out with some friends, which was seeming more and more like it was not going to happen. so, after the gym i went home, took a shower, put on my pjs, and texted my friend to tell her i was in no shape to go out again. yea...not so much. i was pretty easily convinced to scratch my plans for a tame night, and promptly got out of my pajamas, made myself look like a real person, and headed out with the intention of getting home by 12 ("i wouldn't be going to bed any earlier anyway, right?")
see, there was a key element missing in this sequence of events: work, gym, shower, go out.....dinner? nah. my blood sugar had being running high all day (hormonal stuff + lack of sleep), so i didn't need to eat, and therefore decided to forgo my meal in favor of drinking. 3 vodka/sodas + 1.5 tequila shots later, and i'm feeling like the world's biggest idiot/a freshman in college puking on the streets of new york. good times. the next day at work i was even more cracked out and ridiculous, and my blood sugars followed in suit. ate an english muffin for breakfast that was 32g, gave 3 units even though my normal morning ratio is 1/15, and rang in at 220 mg/dL two hours later, 200 mg/dL three hours later. thanks, diabetes, for giving me yet another reason to feel like ass.
i was able to reign in my inner rebellious teenager for the rest of the week, and excused my ridiculous weekday behavior with the fact that i had to take my psych GREs this saturday and work on sunday, so no time to go out during the actual weekend. this meant waking up at 6:45 saturday and 5:15 sunday. saturday i had one of the most horrendous blood sugars i have seen in months. i ate my normal oatmeal breakfast that on any given day requires 1-4 units of insulin (it's about 45g), and went to take my test. i was nervous, i guess, which i know can shoot up my numbers, but i was not at all prepared for the 315 mg/dL that greeted me two hours after breakfast. i retested and got 305 mg/dL. um...what? can you do not do that, diabetes? it took a lot of strength to return to my test and focus on it, rather than being distracted by that obscene number. ugh.
oh, and did i mention that i got my pump hooked up on thursday?! i'm not going to lie, it's kind of annoying the ever loving crap out of me right now. a lot of that has to do with the fact that it just has saline in it, so currently it's only purpose in life is to irritate me while i am still shooting up the old fashioned way. i have already dropped it a few times while attempting to go to the bathroom (luckily not in the toilet), tried on and purchased a dress that is not pump friendly:
(i am determined to figure out a way!), and dealt with it just hanging off the back of my pants in a way that is more obvious than i would like. it doesn't fit in my bra as well as i had hoped. there will definitely be a lot of exposures, so i'm just trying to prepare myself for that.
last night was my last does of lantus. i think once gilbey is filled with insulin tomorrow, i will appreciate it a lot more. and i just need to get used to it being on me, which is a work in progress for sure.
so yea, i'm exhausted. [end bitch fest]