What a day ....

Thursday was one of the scariest moments of my life.
Mrs. Rhody and I are expecting are first child, which is scary enough, but the pregnancy wasn't planned. Normally, this wouldn't be a big deal, but Mrs. Rhody is a Type 1 diabetic and when diabetics get pregnant, they're supposed to plan to make sure the pregnancy will go full-term.
Regardless, Mrs. Rhody did everything right. She got her A1C levels (I have no idea what they are) to a healthy number once we found out and everything has been going great - until Thursday morning.
I got home from work around 1:30 a.m. and, still wired, stayed up until about 4.
Around 8 a.m., I hear a bang. Mrs. Rhody fell - on her ass. I thought she slipped and, thanks to my poor vision, couldn't really see her face. I jumped out of bed to help her up and she continued what she was doing - putting on her sneakers, which didn't make any sense but at this point, i was so tired I didn't think anything of it. Then she fell again, backward, on the bed. I helped her up and with my face right next to hers, I could tell her blood sugar was dangerously low.
I don't know how many of you know diabetics, but dealing with someone with a very low blood sugar isn't easy. The second I saw her face I raced downstairs to grab a juice, but we were out so I popped a can of Sprite and brought it up to her. She wouldn't drink. This is a common occurrence, especially when blood-sugar gets low; her endochronologist explained to me - he's a diabetic as well - that there's a certain emabrassment level and you don't want to be helped, even though you need it, but your brain is too screwed up to process.
It's happened in the past and every time, she's eventually had a couple sips and things were good. Not Thursday.
She kept trying to tell me something, but I have no idea what she was saying because it was a jumbled mess of syllables. I was yelling at her to drink and when she didn't, I went to Plan B - something we've discussed if this situtation ever happened - which was get chocolate sauce and force it in her mouth, then call a rescue.. She was still concious and was not super pumped when I jammed the thing in her mouth and spit half of it out, but it was a start. Then she raced downstairs and tried to lock herself in the bathroom.
I called 911 and started to freak out. At this point, I still don't have my contacts on so I'm seeing a blur and the only thing I can think of is trying o get her to drink the Sprite. She laid on the couch just as the rescue got there and they tested her blood - something she wasn't letting me do. It was at 56, which is low, but not scary low. When we started dating, she hit low 30s once and when I went downstairs to check on her, she pulled a knife and told me to leave her alone because she didn't want me to see her like that.
Anyway, they gave her some glucose gel and took her to the local hospital. As she was getting wheeled out, she looked at me and said "You're a fucking idiot," which I didn't take personally because I knew at this point she wasn't being rational.
Everything turned out fine. Baby was good and Mrs. Rhody's biggest concern at the hospital was how she was going to look when she walked into her endochronologist's office - she had an appointment that afternoon - with her hair a mess, pajamas and no bra.
We - endochronologist, who's amazing, myself and Mrs. Rhody - figured out how it happened. Turned out last night when she got home, her blood sugar was higher than normal and she changed her pump; when she checked her sugars again 30 minutes later, they got higher, so she figured there was something wrong with the pump. She gave herself an injection and changed her pump again so, in essence, OD'd on insulin. When she tested before I got to bet she was 111, which is where she needs to be when she's sleeping, but her levels were crashing and she had no idea how much they were about to drop.
She was miserable all day as her sugars got back to normal - the high to low to normal jump in a short period of time is a bitch, but I did everything I could to help her out today.
When we started dating, she always talked about how I would react if she got to a point like this. I never knew if I could handle it and I'll tell you what - it was, hands down, the most frightening moment of my life. Hearing the thud of her falling, then trying to process everything in a short period of time on no sleep had my head spinning. I'm glad we made it through today and I hope it never happens again.
But I know if it does, I'll be somewhat ready.
Sorry for the length, but this is where I go to get the deep stuff off my chest. I'm still a little freaked and that's why, as I head to bed after I post this, I'll test her blood sugar levels and hopefully, it will help me sleep a little better.

 

Damn man that was a harrowing read. But you responded incredibly well. My wife is a diabetic as well, though I don't think her condition is as serious as your wife's, and I hope she never has an episode like the one your wife endured--but I hope I respond like you if it does happen.

You should be proud, and your wife is undoubtedly proud of you.

 

You done good, Rhody. I'm keeping you guys in my thoughts.

 

Good job staying calm enough to get her the help she (and the baby) needed. It's very scary to see a loved one's personality totally change when he/she is going through a metabolic imbalance.

 

Glad to hear she and the baby are OK. Good job, Rhody.

 

I remember when I was in high school and working at Jack in the Box we had a guy walk in we swore was high on something. Twitchy, irritated and angry about something. Gets a burger for his son and leaves. Barely had a chance to glance at my boss when the son comes running in saying his dad's blood sugar was low and he needed help. Dad comes rushing in, grabs the kid, gets in the car and leaves.

I can't imagine what it was like for that kid much like I can't imagine what it was like for you, especially with a baby on the way. So happy to hear both mother and child are doing well. Sounds like you did an amazing job.

 

Damn. That is scary stuff, Rhody. Well done keeping your head and taking care of her.

 

Good job taking control, pops.

My wife pulls a knife on me and calls me an idiot all the time. Maybe I should see if she's got diabetes.

 

Good work, my friend. Glad she's OK ... and maybe a little disappointed she didn't shank you.

 

Good job.

I had my share of scares along those lines with my elderly mother before she died, so I have a pretty good idea what you were up against.

Always kept a sippy cup with day-old soda (reduces the carbonation) and a candy bar on the nightstand next to her bed for just such instances.

The lowest her blood glucose reading ever got was 26, which is deep into the danger zone, but she somehow pulled through it.

 

One of my coworkers -- CentralKYKid on here, I think -- is diabetic. One night at work, we're the only ones left in the office. I tell him something, but he doesn't respond. I look over at him, and he's not moving. I yell his name to get his attention, and he sort of snaps out of it.

Having talked to his mom, I knew I had to get him something to eat or drink to get his sugar back up. I ran downstairs to our break room, grabbed a soda and made him drink it. He was OK within a few minutes, but that was one of the scariest moments of my life.

 

My brother-in-law and his wife, a diabetic, had a long struggle trying to get pregnant. The full term went quite smoothly and their son celebrated his first birthday with all of us on Saturday. Good luck and we'll be thinking good thoughts.