Monday, September 2, 2013

Inner crazies of a Hypoglycemic

If you have been around my husband for any period of time, you have probably been exposed to a story or two of "Rage-ous"... This would be his name for me when my blood sugar drops, which has a tendency to do from time to time. Apparently, I not only become spacey, slow to respond, but also not the nicest version of myself.

Somehow, when we were dating and engaged he never really was exposed to, or noticed, my hypoglycemic tendencies, even though I know I told him about them at the very least.

Ah, young naive puppy love, when the one you love is basically perfect and can do no wrong.

He almost got to meet Rage-ous on our wedding night, when we made it back to our hotel room only to discover I hadn't eaten in nearly 8 hours and could only think about my need for food right this minute! I might have eaten more then 3/4 of our food basket packed by our caterers while he was had to go back down to the car to sort out our luggage issues (we gave the bellhop 3 tries to brings p the correct suitcase... There were 5 suitcases in the car. With a 50/50 chance the correct suitcase would not come up the on the 4th attempt, Jared opted to just procure the bag himself.)

typical wedding night activities 

Oh, and side note, we ended up having to change rooms after midnight due to solvent fumes from bathroom construction on the floors above us. On Memorial Day weekend. Cause that makes sense.

As if that wasn't bad enough, the next day when we flew into Jamaica, we had to wait 2+ hrs in customs. We hadn't eaten in hours, but I wasn't too worried as we had been told that our resort holding area would have plenty of food. Upon arrival to said holding room, we discovered there had been a bowlful of pretzels. But there was plenty of cheap wine and beer. Um, yeah... I don't drink, especially on an empty stomach. We had a 2 hr van ride through the mountains of Jamaica, with a driver who reeked of marijuana. I was basically comatose by the time we arrived a the resort, and wasn't really comprehending even the most basic questions and commands. Jared quickly realized something was very wrong, and asked the one of the workers if they could bring me some food immediately!?

No problem, mah-n!

They came back with two glasses of champagne. Yeah, not going to work. We left resort orientation and struck out on our own. A jerk chicken  pizza by the ocean later, I was nearly as good as new.

Thankfully, that was the last of our honeymoon woes... Unless you count champagne incident the next night, when I chugged a small glass of the bubbly...

Promptly threw up (there is a reason I never drink!) in the commode, and passed out on the foot of the bed at 9:30! Exactly how Jared pictured the night going, I am sure!;)

One would think Jared learned his lesson - that is wife is basically a gremlin, and comes with instructions when it comes to food. But no.

The biggest fight of our marriage to date happened on our first anniversary trip. By this point, though we still adored each other ( and still do so today), we were finally human in the other's eyes. Faults were clearly obvious and what used to be cute little idiosyncrasies had now possibly become annoying character flaws.

We ended up walking, not only on different sides of street, but in opposite directions on the streets of downtown Ashevill. 

For the record, I was headed in the correct direction. But that's neither here nor there for this story.

Jared planned an awesome long weekend trip to Asheville, NC. We were going to stay in a bed and breakfast, eat an anniversary dinner on the sunset terrace at the Grove Park Inn, and explore the Biltmore Estate. Jared and I both like to make the most of any trip we take. Plan out the waking moments, and go go go. One minor difference - I need to eat every few hours, while Jared would prefer just inhaling an ungodly amount of food at dinner. 

Jared made a few comments on how we were just going  to eat snack during the first day, and eat a great dinner. I made a few comments that I just didn't usually handle those types of eating situations too well. Remember our wedding night and honeymoon, baby? He was sure if we just packed a few granola bars and bottles of water we would be fine. I knew otherwise.

Quick caveat - one of my issues with premarital counseling: women are told not to nag. And I couldn't
agree more! However, I wish someone had explained to me the difference/finer points of specific-intentional communication vs. nagging. That sometimes you need to make your husband look you in the eye, speak concisely to him, and have him repeat back to you what you just said. Or a whack to the back of the head now and then can be effective as well.

So off we went to Asheville, and explored alllll over the amazing  Biltmore Estate for hours, in the most humid, hot day to date that spring. Since I didn't want to be the nagging wife, after a few quiet comments of "I think might be a little hungry, and we don't have anymore granola bars." I let it drop. He thought I was just getting quiet because I was really soaking up every moment.

If you have never experienced hypoglycemia, or been around people who do, you may not understand or be aware of panic that the experiencer begins to feel, which often becomes irrational, and detrimental, quickly. 

When we arrived at our bed and breakfast to check in and change for a dinner in downtown Asheville, my irrational panic was in full force. I was in a full on cold sweat and knew I needed food.  Like two hours ago. The only food available was pomegranate-passion fruit tea and fresh out of the oven chocolate cookies. I knew I would hurl if I drank a drop of that tea on an empty stomach, so naturally I couldn't eat a cookie either. I needed protein. Protein I needed yeah, but at this point, any food would have been better then no food, you idiot!

By the time we were changed, and back in the car I was starting to get snappy (aka introducing my husband to Rage-ous). I wasn't taking active participation in choosing which restaurant to eat dinner that night. This, combined with my husbands, self claimed, complete inability to navigate the streets of downtown Asheville (apparently a city full of hippies has that affect of my preppy hubs), started to really grate on Jared's nerves. Things rapidly fell apart from there. Hence, the walking on opposite sides of street in different directions.

Thankfully, we make up very quickly, and shortly thereafter were able to enjoy a nice meal together. However, I had the worlds worst headache for rest of the evening. The rest of the trip, though, was wonderful time of celebrating our first year of marriage. With plenty of meals and snacks. ;-)

By the time we traveled to Puerto Rico two years later, he and I were prepared with appropriate expectations and protein bars. He was only mildly frustrated when upon arrival to the hotel, he had to race to find me food before we could get exploring that part of the island.

Gosh, we can't wait to go back to this place!
Over the last few years I have done a lot of research on the glycemic index and maintaining a healthy blood sugar level. Shakeology and P90x protein bars have been my daily and on the go lifesavers!! Jared will not let me leave the house on trips without either. He prefers to keep his interactions with Rage-ous to a minimum. Can't say I blame him. She isn't my favorite either.

So to take this to the more present day - 34 wks pregnant, at the beach for hours, chasing an attitudinal toddler in the high heat of a South Carolina summer, is the perfect set up for Rage-ous  to make her appearance. However, I had been very vigilant to eat well balanced, high protein meals, and to stay very hydrated. No one needs to deal with a toddler who is learning she not only has a will to exert, but opinions to make known, and a Rage-ous wife/female! We had done great... until we didn't.

In an attempt to make the most of our beach time, Jared and I decided to try a trick that, last year worked splendidly to get Ellie to nap on the beach. Tent, sound machine, blanket, and this year, poo-ba, her miniature pooh bear. One of four "friends" she likes to sleep with.

Overall, Ellie went along with the plan great.

Except she didn't sleep.

However, as long as I laid in the tent with her, she laid on her stomach, very content, without making a peep. For an hour. Now, in case you have never experienced a tent on the beach, that wasn't set up to receive the lovely crosswinds of  the beach (my husband and father in law can't be expected to be perfect), let me assure you it's got to be similar to the outer regions of hell. Especially at Pigeon Forge in the sand ( aka myrtle beach) when you, in your 3rd trimester, are in a size competition with the whales. Sand provides no cushion either, my friends!

Even though I stayed on my left side, displaying my pregnanct backside to the entire, poor, unsuspecting/undeserving beach, about 45 minutes in I started to feel really woozy. I was past pain at this point, as my entire left side had pretty much gone numb. I sat up at the opening on the tent, and realized the sand was not staying in place, but kind of rushing up towards me. I realized for the first time that I was completely drenched. Soaked through with sweat. Gross. I needed food and fluids STAT.

Being a nurse, I should have known this and remedied it quickly. In my defense, I did look into the snack bag where I thought I had a protein bar. Unfortunately, I had eaten it the day before. My water bottle was empty.

Rational people would have done the easy and smart thing - ask the mother in law who was 5 feet away, to watch your kid while you ran/stumbled up to the condo for a quick snack.

Hypoglycemics don't make rational decisions in these cases unfortunately. All I could think was I need Jared and I need to get into the pool to cool off... and cleanse myself of all this sweat. Totally rational!

So there I sat, fighting the extreme panic that I could feel rising, staring at the back of my unsuspecting mother-in-law's head. and doing nothing.

For whatever reason (aka a miracle!) Jared happened to come by to check on me, and recognized immediately that I was in big time trouble. Five years of marriage had finally prepared him for how to handle this.

Don't ask me questions or give me options, as my answers will be very slow coming, and probably unintelligible... and most likely very Rage-ous. Take charge and give instructions.

"We need to get you inside and get you something to eat and drink now!" Ellie had begun to cry at this point, so he threw her up onto his shoulder and followed after me, yelling over his shoulder to his mom that we would be back. Poor woman was more then a little bewildered.

I still contemplated just dropping into the pool as we passed on our way back to our condo, but luckily having Jared near me lessened my irrational panic somewhat, allowing room for more sound reasoning. You idiot you need fluid in you more than on you! Not to mention food.

I don't really remember making it back to the condo, except I remember apologizing a bunch that I had let myself go so far... it just hit me out of no where.

Jared must have laid Ellie down, because she napped great that day, and I have no recollection of doing it. He and I both grabbed a plethora of food and beverages from the kitchen and headed out to the porch.

Nearly a liter of water, a sprite, cup of chocolate milk, protein bar, 1/3 of a watermelon (no, I am not exaggerating) , some plain yogurt, and a handful of peanut M&M's later I was as good as new... but very ready for a nap.

Hypoglycemia is exhausting work y'all!

Apparently, we have grown/matured in our dealing with these situations as no fights ensued... just lots of laughs and head shakes afterwards. I made sure I had double the amounts of fluid and snacks on the beach with me the rest of the trip, and we never attempted to have Ellie nap on the beach again.:)

You win some, you lose some.

1 comment:

  1. Phew, I can't imagine feeling like that! I get CRANKY without food, but not actually woozy!

    PS - chugging champagne would make anyone puke, you silly lady!!