Crashed.

.

.

Trying to see my way beyond the crash.  Blood sugar was 276, so I decided to take 40 cc's of fast acting insulin... with breakfast.  Yesterday, chia breakfast jacked blood sugar by sixty points, for... whatever reason.  So I should have been healthily safe, even without breakfast.

But, no, not today.  Today, after an hour, I started to feel funny, in a not so funny way.  Tunnel vision, the sweats, muscle weakness, nausea, and some other things.  Blood sugar?  But... that... shouldn't be.  A quick check showed it to very much be the case.  It was 73.  Now, 73 doesn't have to be terrible.  Or always bring about that crushing sense of approaching death.  But, when it is an indication only of direction, not a static read?  And, within an hour, it dropped two hundred points?  Yea, it's death, storming the castle gates.

So, I ate stuff.  First a fatted coffee, which was already in the works.  Then a salad, then a taco salad (nearly as above, but with beef crumble... well meat crumble as it is half pork, half beef).  And water.  For whatever reason, I needed water, too.  Like... three to four liters.  Needed water, not wanted.

Still in rough shape.  I would go to bed, but I want another fatted coffee, and to test in another hour.  If it is... good enough.  Too high counts.  I'll go on to bed.  An hour or two.  That... is unnerving.  To have the floor just drop out from under one.  So tired, though.  I really want to go to bed.  I also know, that could be death if I didn't get enough, or the right, stuff in.  I may grab a bottle of glucose tabs, and down it.  It's been an half hour since I ate, I shouldn't still feel this bad.

Anyway... so be it.  Some bastards just don't, won't, can't seem to, die.  Weird.