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Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Diabetes vs. Car Crashes (aka Once Upon a Time)

Once upon a time (in the Fall of 2008), a young (20-yr. old) woman (OK, Me) who was treating her T1D diligently (although with minimal testing, aka a little nonchalantly)  was moving with her boyfriend in the Boston area. On the third or fourth trip, going back for more furniture, the couple got a little lost in the new neighborhood, and while looking for the right turn, in combination with awkward ramps and blinding sunlight (not to mention the hunger), hit a metal ramp head on in their little Honda going no more than 35 MPH...

The Driver's (male) airbag goes off, the passenger (ME, MM!) is left stunned. The hood of the car is smoking and leaking fluids, what's worse it the Driver's head, which is leaking blood. The passenger calls 911.

What may be more distressing than a (Thank God, [seriously]) more superficial than at first thought wound to the Driver's head was the fact that I (the Passenger) pre-dosed (oh-so-diligently) 2U of Humulin R in anticipation of a some sort of fast-food cheeseburger on the way to pick up the furniture...

I remember pleading (in shock) with the Ambulance guy to "give me glucose tablets" (they only had gel, which was super-gross). They lead me (calmly) onto the back of the ambulance to test my BG. Once he got out the thing (meter), he was like " I'm not sure how to use it [what??!!] ". At that point, I snapped out of my shocked state and remembered that I (in fact) had a BG meter in my bag. My blood glucose level was 110. (Insert shock and feeling like the Ambulance guy thinks you were kidding about the Diabetes) LOL.

Fast forward 1 hr. and I'm having Coke (non-diet, unknown amount) in the ER because I "feel like it". I alternate between bitching about Diabetes (aka confessing my Dx) to my [back-then future] mother-in-law (whom I called on the ambulance ride to MGH)... and also this is my first time BITCHING about DIABETES to anyone ever... Fast forward 4 hours, as we're finishing moving (while my then-boyfriend, now husband, is still at MGH). I'm exhasuted as I sneak out for a cig [Parliament] , and I feel shaky (still haven't had dinner). I go upstairs and (discreetly) test my BG (it's 40-something). I drink some juice and throw away the rest, I help clean up, move furniture into car, deliver it to E. Boston, pick up boyfriend from hospital, thank God I'm still alive.

Such as life, funny to have remembered this so vividly almost 5 years after...

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