Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Night time hypoglicemia

I go to the bathroom of my dormroom, only to find one of my colleagues sitting on the toilet, fully clothed, studying for the exam we have in two days.
-What are you doing? Why are you in my bathroom?!
He just shrugs like he always does when he doesn't want to answer a question and I leave it to that.
I turn to the mirror, look at my hair and decide to cut it in half. Look, there are some scissors right there. Why don't you take them and cut your hair? I find myself staring at the tail in my hand. Tiny voice in my head:
-Alexandra, what are you doing? What is wrong with you?
This isn't right. This isn't real. Tiny voice again:
-You must be in hypo. Test yourself.
I must be dreaming?
Wake up. Wake up.
Ok, I'm awake now. It's really dark, but I go straight to the bag with my supplies, take it and carry myself to the bathroom, as quietly as possible considering the fact that my legs feel cemented in a certain position (I have two roommates and I try not to let my diabetes affect them at night too.)
I test myself: 52.
Hmmm. This feels too bad for it to only be 52. Nevertheless, I redo the process of putting one foot in front of the other for what seems like infinity until I get to the fridge. Can't remember what I actually ate, but must've been good because I woke up with a bs of 112 and the full length of my hair.

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