Two bees ran into each other. The first bee asked the other how things were going. "Really bad," said the second bee. "The weather has been really wet and damp and there aren't any flowers or pollen, so I can't make any honey." "No problem," said the first bee. "Just fly down five blocks and turn left. Keep going until you see all the cars. There's a Bar Mitzvah going on and there are all kinds of fresh flowers and fruit." "Thanks for the tip," said the second bee, and he flew away. A few hours later, the two bees ran into each other again. The first bee asked, "How'd it go?""Great!" said the second bee. "It was everything you said it would be." "Uh, what's that thing on your head?" asked the first bee. "That's my yarmulke," said the second bee. "I didn't want them to think I was a wasp."
Just a little bee humor. Or not.
Sending a diabetic who is experiencing a low blood sugar into the grocery story is like sending a five year old child with an unlimited budget and no rules into a candy shop. That is how I shopped yesterday, after leaving physical therapy with a blood sugar of 43. Suffice it to say, we have junk food supplies in store for the next THREE ice storms, one of which will be arriving this afternoon. I purchased the following: fudge pops, ice cream sandwiches, fruit pops, fluffernutter, granola bars with chocolate chips, sugar free chocolate covered wafers, christmas oreos (with the red filling, cheerios (actually, these were for Allison), very berry captain crunch, jelly fruit slices, pistacho nuts, honey roasted peanuts, sugar free hot cocoa, egg nog, romaine lettuce, zuchini and a cucumber. I kid you not. This little sugarplum trip cost $79. The real kicker is that the point of going to the grocery was to pick up something to eat so my blood sugar would stop dropping. Instead, I just bought everything I thought would alleviate the problem, without actually EATING it. This is a common trait for a diabetic in trouble. Aimless wandering and babbling. I can only speak for myself, but I have on occasion found myself walking around downtown with odd food purchases and not really remembering how I purchased it, or if in fact I DID purchase it. Hopefully, the bag is a good sign, as a thief does not usually pause to bag their stolen items. Then again, we're not talking about rational behavior here. It can be a very frightening experience, and one that is hard to describe. It's seriousness is generally lost as I try to make light of the episode and make a joke or two. However, this is a disease that can give you food issues if you really let it. I have let it. Food to a diabetic is something that must be disected, measured, rejected, monitored, reported, and if it is appealing to me, denied. And then, just as you have adjusted to this unnatural way of looking at food you find yourself in a low blood sugar situation where food is the one thing that will save you. Literally. It is, to say the least, a bi-polar relationship with food. It doesn't work for me. However, I was not asked if it worked for me, so here I sit, recovering from a day of fluctuating blood sugars and trying to get 'back on track' with my diet. Because, I will admit, when I got home and was able to set my weak body into the recliner, my irrational mind of course dipped into the ice cream, pistachios and egg nog. Just until I felt better, which was when my blood sugar reached a high of 488. Anyway, this was yesterday's activity. Balancing the sugar. When I report all of this to the endocrinologist this morning, he will be appropriate horrified, as am I. And we will move forward another day. This is just my way of blowing off a little steam. I appreciate the opportunity to do so. I think today I'll be having that salad. Hold the croutons.