Friday night I headed home after a long week at work excited to have my first weekend home in over 7 weeks. K and I had a whirlwind of a summer with family obligations, vacation, sports travel and a bunch of other stuff. This past weekend we were psyched to enjoy NYC and get in a bunch of couch time. Friday night was relaxing as planned but the sh*t show of health issues began ominously on Saturday morning.
Since this was our first weekend home in quite some time I thought it would be great to cook K breakfast in bed on Saturday. My awesome idea started by dropping 2 eggs directly onto the oven as I tried to flip another off our skillet and our coffee machine deciding it was a better idea to spray all over the counter than get into the carafe. This was followed by yours truly essentially knocking himself out by banging my head on the bottom of a cupboard as I bent over to pick up a dropped water bottle. All in a tough start to a Saturday!
Following my 1.5 hour trainer ride my blood sugar was a pesky 195; high for the amount of food I had taken in but figured my body was still just tired. I had a kind of light lunch and was surprised my blood sugar had climbed to 285 after a mile walk. This is when the real fun started.
Saturday evening K and I were scheduled to attend an event for Marjorie's Fund, a non-profit lead by my endo, Dr. B, that focuses on helping the under privileged and developing countries get the medical supplies they need to manage type 1. Both Dr. B and Lauren, my sports nutritionist, were on the agenda to speak so I was actually looking forward to attending. An hour into the event my blood sugar was still at 305 (the third straight hour of being in the 300s), so I found Dr. B and let him know I wouldn't be able to stay for the talking portion of the evening; this also meant I had to cancel K and my dinner reservations.
Once home I changed to a new vial of humalog, got a new insertion set and commenced the blood sugar management games. My rage bolus of 4 units of humalog added to the five units I already had in made for a super interesting 7 hours. For dinner I had an english muffin with peanut butter and an hour later my blood sugar had already dropped 175 points. I added a clif mojo bar to my stomach and had hoped my bs would stabalize around 120. I was woken 3 times that night with blood sugars in the 40s - 50s and woke up Sunday with a bs of 58. It seemed the highs were over so I was excited for a Sunday of exercise and football.
Excitedly, K and I headed up to Central Park for a run mid-morning Sunday. Most of my exercise over the past year has been focused solely on cycling. I've run in a pinch or when my legs needed a break but 7 - 8 miles is about the longest run I've had in the past year. Sunday I decided to get after it with a full loop of CP plus the carriage loop (another 2 miles) so 8.5 miles in total on rolling hills. I completed the run at close to an 8 minute pace (somehow) with an amazingly stable blood sugar. An hour later the fun began.
My blood sugar stayed close to 200 after my run (weird for me) and then my stomach was put into a vice grip. For the next 6 hours I was laid up on our living room couch in the fetal position trying to keep my eyes open and my butt out of the bathroom. The combination of the highs the night before and my sweat from the run must have had me totally dehydrated. That led to some major major stomach cramps and a bad case of the runners trots.
Moral of the story, each day brings a new challenge and sometimes you just gotta roll with the best laid plans. Plus, I owe my wife one heck of a night out with all she put up with this weekend as a type 3.