Ironically, it’s Ground Hog Day. For real. As in varmint, sun, clouds, winter, and all of that stuff. But I’m thinking more along the lines of the Bill Murray movie by the same name. Remember that one?
He lives the same day, over and over and over and over and over again. And nothing ever changes.
The Ground Hog Day low started like the last one, only later in the night. Once again, the low coasted onto the scene. A slow steady drop all night long, the CGM trace finally dipping it’s toe into the cold water of a hypo at a few minutes after five in the morning. The Dexcom woke me with the news.
In the old days (before last week) I would have suspended the pump for fifteen minutes, using a Temp Rate, drunk a half bottle of Dex 4 and rolled over and gone back to sleep.
But once bitten, twice… or perhaps one hundred times… shy. I suspended for an hour and a half and drank the whole bottle. I bet you can guess what happened next.
Right. The fucking Ground Hog does not have diabetes. Nothing ever happens twice the same way with diabetes.
The low promptly reversed. An excursion set in, and my sugar surged 100 points like a freight elevator.
Not that I’m complaining this time. I’ll take an over-corrected hypo over one that won’t turnaround any day. Meanwhile, the sun is up at my house.
I guess that means six more weeks of whacky blood sugars.