I got home a little later than usual last night. A Dr's office called at 4:55 PM to change a patient's insulin dosage. The patient is Type II, but is on insulin. She has all sorts of mental issues and can give herself the insulin, but is not competent enough to draw it up. That's my job. I draw up a week's worth at a time and leave it in the fridge for her. Since she is on nighttime insulin, I made the trek out to her house after hours to fix her insulin.
Anyway, I called Michael and told him that supper would be a little later and asked him to check Riley's sugar in a bit to make sure it wasn't going low. He checked. He wasn't low.
Once I got home, I immediately started on supper. But, when it was about half-way done, the profuse sweating and the shaking started. And, I'm not talking about Riley, I'm talking about me. Michael was talking about something that went on at work (since school is out, he puts in pools and spas during the summer). I was just sitting on the couch and looking at him and trying to grasp what he was saying. I was sweating so much that my shirt was sticking to my back. And, my hands were shaking so badly I couldn't even untie my tennis shoes.
On a whim, I got Riley's machine. My sugar was 60. Now, how did that happen? I did skip lunch yesterday, but that's not unusual for me.
I drank some soda and by the time I got done with supper I was feeling better. But, I was so worn out. I felt like I had run a marathon. I just lay on the couch for a while.
All I kept thinking was, "Is this how Riley feels every time?" I was only 60. He's been much lower than that before. He doesn't usually act tired afterwards. Is that normal or was it just me? I really felt like a limp dish rag.
I guess I just got a taste of what Riley goes through. And, it just breaks my heart.