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Re: [IP] HELP- Worst day ever!!

In a message dated 2/22/00 12:34:45 PM Pacific Standard Time, 
email @ redacted writes:

<< I really have a bad case of burn-out and
 need some encouragement as I'm at wits end, sick and feel Fluffy, my pump,
 hates me and is the enemy, not my hero. Help please. >>

What a horrible, rotten, #@$% day!  Let's just hope that you have used up all 
your bad luck on this day and tomorrow will be better.  I'm 39, been dm since 
age 19 in college.  Pumping 4 yrs now and having many fewer of these #$%@ dm 
days than I used to.  Here's a pre-pump, two-shot a day experience that I 
laugh at now, that wasn't the least bit funny then.

I was newly diagnosed, 19 yo and away from home for the first time in college 
 Was diagnosed only about a month into first semester and had never known 
another diabetic except the kid in HS who drank regularly and passed out on 
the front school lawn at least once a week.

Anyway, the doc started me out taking 24 U of Lente and 12 U of Reg at 8am.  
(I only take 3-4 unit bolus now). HAD to eat big breakfast (I hate breakfast) 
and HAD to have a snack at 10am just to keep ahead of the insulin.  HAD to 
eat lunch at 11:30 or would crash, this was a year before bg meters were 
avail, urine testing was useless.  This day from hell came and I couldn't 
make it to McDonald's for lunch until 11:45.  There were lines 10 people deep 
at all registers and I was alone.  Of course, I chose the WRONG line.  It was 
sooo slow.  Each passing minute sent me crashing further.  I get real snappy 
when low.  I make it up to the front of the line at 12:00 and must not have 
had a bg of higher than 30.  I scream at the poor kid to give me a quarter 
pounder NOW, and tell him to take the money out of my wallet, because I 
can't.  He is SOOO confused.  His eyes roll back in his head and he hits the 
floor, THUD, and starts jerking.  He was having an epaleptic attack, probably 
brought on by all the stress and me screaming at him.  Everyone is so 
concerned with him the whole place comes to a standstill.  I continue 
screaming that I need my quarter pounder NOW or I will start having an attack 
like him too.

They gave it to me just to shut me up.  Oh, the nasty glares because I didn't 
care about him.  It's just then that my husband shows up to eat with me.  
What's all the fuss about, honey???

Here's hoping tomorrow's a better day,
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