Hotel Low

I hate packing. I'm always terrified that I will forget something. Overlook some small detail, that when away from home will magnify and threaten your very existence. Normally I forget stupid stuff - deodorant, toothbrush. I always double check my pump supplies, though. I figure if I've got insulin, infusion sets, needles and my tester, I'm good. I can buy anything else.

This weekend, I checked and double checked everything, yet left probably the most important item. I never even packed it. Treatment for a low.

And low I went. At 1am. I had 1 juice box in my bag. It didn't cut it. I laid there, panicking, trying to figure out what to do. I couldn't formulate a plan. Instead my mind focused on all the food in my kitchen, at home. At the bag of Halloween candy that Ally amassed. I remember drifting off into that fantasy world, where I was eating and eating and eating.

Then I woke up again.

I tried ignoring the low. Maybe if I didn't acknowledge it, it would go away. Maybe I wasn't really low. Maybe I was just panicking at the thought of not having something to treat a real low. Maybe...Maybe...Maybe...

I was low though, and going lower. I suddenly remembered that the lobby sold candy bars. I just had to remember how to get there.

At close to 2 am (1am for the 2nd time?), I dragged myself down the hall, down the elevator and into the lobby and bought myself 2 candy bars. 1 to treat, and 1 for insurance.

I remember my sister asking me where I was going. I don't remember answering her. I don't remember going and I don't remember getting back. I know I went. I know I ate a King Sized Twix bar and bought a King Sized Snickers. I remember the panic.

I HATE LOWS.