Dedicated to my daughter, MM who inspired me to write down the details of the following humorous experience.
I've been substitute teaching for the past few years for elementary aged students. One day I was called in for a third grade class. The day was going very smoothly and the students were very attentive to all my instructions. This particular class had their lunch scheduled for late in the day. About a half hour prior to lunch time, while the students were quietly working on a reading assignment, I felt myself getting jittery and decided to check my blood sugar. Sure enough, it was 60 and needed to be addressed. I reached for my purse and took out two sugar packets, ripped them open and poured them into my mouth. Within about 30 seconds I started to hear whispering around the classroom....."SHE EATS SUGAR.......THE SUBSTITUTE TEACHER EATS SUGAR!!!!" I decided to "take the high road" and just ignore the comments rather than try explaining diabetes and insulin reactions to third graders. But I did notice that I've never been called back again to sub for that class.......
I've been using sugar packets to treat BS reactions for about 7 years. I've found that they work best for me for several reasons. They are easy to carry and don't go bad; sugar dissolves quickly and easily without having to be chewed and they're very inexpensive. Each packet is about 15 calories and about 5 g of carbs. So I usually start off with two packets and recheck my blood sugar 15 to 20 minutes later to see if I need more.
I'd love to hear what you use to treat insulin reactions. To leave a comment, please click on "comments" below and follow the instructions. Looking forward to hearing from you.
--Lissy
Well Lissy, I've had diabetes (or as I like to call it- dy-A-BEET-us) for the last fifteen years of this ol' life of mine. One day I was on the construction site and I, too, ripped open a pack of emergency sugar (I like to keep it in my tool belt along with my other tools of the trade) and many of my coworkers looked at me like I was crazy. Now, I didn't feel like explaining my disorder to a bunch of jack-hammering men in they forties, so I too, said nothing. Well... I was never invited to our weekly BBQs after. People thought they was something wrong with me, but never bothered to ask. Discrimination, I say. It's a hard knock life, yano?
ReplyDeleteBy the way, I enjoy your blog. Nice to know others like me exist in this cruel world.
Hi Anonymous...I LOVED your story!!!!! And I love how you call the illness dy a beet us!!!
ReplyDeleteYou have a great sense of humor. Thanks for your comment!!!