Pulp Fiction

I added an item to our staff meeting agenda at work the other day, and it had absolutely nothing to do with my job. It was a bit of a selfish agenda item.

At the end of the meeting, when all the staff attending by conference call had logged off, I called attention to my diabetes. Everyone at work knows I have it, my diabetes is not something that I hide. Some understand my diabetes fairly well, some the basics and some I am still working on educating.

I fielded an errant comment only a week ago during a staff birthday morning tea that I wouldn't be able to eat cake next week (now this week) because it would be National Diabetes Week. I am not sure how it being National Diabetes Week prevents me from putting cake in my mouth, but I'm beginning to think the commenter was on to something, because I am super high right now from the cake I did eat today at morning tea. We have lots of cake here. And I have a lot of salads that I don't want for dinner as a result.

Hands Free Hypo.

Conversations continued later that day when I was walking around with a juice box tucked under my chin treating a hypo. I don't usually allow people to see me treating a hypo because I tend to get cranky and I just want to be alone. This was one of those rare times when I allowed other people near me. Naturally, questions were directed to me about hypos, how to treat them, and then if they should/could do anything and if so, when. I went through the usual explanation and ended with instructions that if myself or the other diabetic at work were unconscious, that we should be given Glucagon, and how to give it.






"Like in Pulp Fiction?" someone said, and mimed stabbing a needle into their chest.

Almost, but with a little less 'aggressively stabbing needle to the heart' and more careful insertion into a large muscle

The next day I added a Glucagon demonstration to the staff meeting agenda, which is how, in the middle of National Diabetes Week, I came to be holding a diabetes special of 'Show and Tell' at our staff meeting. Complete with demonstration from a dead (expired) kit I had been hoarding at home.

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Reasons Why I'm Hypo: I rage bolused to get rid of the stubborn post-cake high. Rage bolused kicked in hard.