The brain is an amazing device. With it's mind-boggling complexity, it controls every aspect of our being.
It regulates our emotions, tells our heart and lungs to work, and allows
us to basically do whatever we want (make bad choices, fall in love with
losers, lick our lips when they are chapped… ) you get the drift.
I have recently been thinking (with my cranium, of course) that thanks
to my brain, I have not died. My brain
allows me to make decisions-- I look both ways before crossing the road, I don’t
throw my body in a fire pit, or decide to go pet wild ferocious lions... but I’m talking about when my brain
automatically saves me from death when I am not in control. How
about when I am asleep?
*Just to be clear, 1 in 20 type one diabetics will die from hypoglycemia.*
Low blood sugars kill. So how does mine save me? Well, what if I told you that your brain is also a super hero?
During the night, most type 1 diabetics like myself experience low
blood sugars. However, on rare occasions,
I catch them before I go to sleep.
For instance, after a long night of dancing, drinking champagne, and
munching on finger foods at my sister’s wedding, my blood sugar got up to
519. Because of the dress, my pump was hidden
in the leg strap and I did not have the remote to my pump on me. Between making toasts and mingling with
friends and family, I did not think about diabetes. Whoa, big shock there. So of course, at midnight when I checked and
saw it was 519, I realized I ate a few too many cupcakes and chicken salad
sandwiches. I bolused for the
correction, and survived the next hour and a half of cleaning the reception up by
drinking a gallon of water.
When I finally got home, around 1:30am I checked my blood sugar again
through my droopy eyelids. It said it
was 147. Wait…what? Shouldn’t it be 250? No.
147. I looked at how much insulin
I had on board, and I still had five and a half units! I knew that if I fell into the deep slumber I
was craving that I would surely die of hypoglycemia. So I got up and ate the kitchen.
I ate pasta salad, crackers, drank some lemonade, ate a handful of
cereal, and topped off my mini feast with 3 glucose tablets. I had full intentions of setting an alarm to
wake me up so I could check around 3am, but I was just too darn tired. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the
pillow.
Thankfully, the next morning I awoke (alive!) and my blood sugar was 115. I have my kitchen grazing to thank for saving
my life on that one. However, what
happens when you can’t catch it before you sleep?
Your brain puts on a cape and saves the day.
While I am sleeping, my brain is working at 100mph. I dream almost every night. Sometimes I can tell when my dream is
reflecting what is on my mind, or even when my dream incorporates things that
happened during the day prior. I have
the absolute craziest dreams (Joe can vouch for me). I wake up and can remember vivid details,
whether they be that a character had a tattoo of the letters “JB” on their index
finger, or that I was drinking a grape Nehi
(not just any Nehi, but a grape one).
Like I said…crazy.
Diabetes also causes me to have strange and often annoying dreams (because you know Diabetes rules every aspect of a person’s life). However, it’s not always a bad thing. I have found that an annoying dream that won’t end is actually my brain’s way of screaming for me to WAKE UP.
There are two types of brain rescues that work together to save the day
(night). Sweat and dreams.
Let’s say I am having a normal dream where I am exploring a house with
Joe. We are walking through various
rooms and pointing out some of its features.
If my blood sugar is low, my brain will start incorporating annoying
details. For instance, a dog will start
barking outside. It becomes a constant,
continuous sound that begins to wear on my nerves a bit. Then, maybe Joe’s phone will start ringing and
he won’t turn it off or answer it. The
noise becomes so frustrating, and I am ready to scream, when I finally wake up just
to end the noise in my head!
I wake up. Roll over. Fall asleep again. Why not?
This time, I start to dream, but it’s the same dream I just had! The dream starts about 3 minutes prior (where we are just walking around the house). Slowly, the noise starts back up and I’m having deja vu. The dog is barking, the phone is beeping, Joe is asking me the same question over and over because he can’t hear me speaking to him. I’m yelling at Joe, and waving my arms around, and tears are falling down my cheeks because I want it all to end!
So what do I do? I wake up again.
Now, either this happens for another four or five cycles (honest
truth!), or I finally realize I need to do something. This is often when my brain sends in the 2nd
rescue squad: sweat.
A few months ago, I woke up in a pool of sweat. I actually thought someone had tossed a
bucket of water on me. My pajamas,
sheets, blanket, mattress pad, and even the mattress were soaked with
sweat. All thanks to diabetes. Talk about being grumpy and gross. At 4:00am.
I ended up pulling the bed clothes off, and sleeping in a sleeping bag
while I waited for the mattress to dry.
Back to annoying dream sequence:
once I get so fed up with my dream stuck on repeat, I generally start
noticing that I’m hot (which only adds to my anger and frustration). Why can’t I just get comfortable? Then, like
a lightbulb moment, it hits me.
My blood sugar is low. 31.
Thank you, brain, for saving my life.
I get up, check, eat, drink, wait, check, and go back to sleep.
