A Casual Low.

More Six Until Me. Aug 1, 2011, 1:58 pm

"Mama?  Ma.  Ma.  Ma.  Ma.  Dumbledore.  Ma." Her voice comes over the monitor, stumbling me from sleep.  

"BEEEEEEEEEP!!!"  The Dexcom wails at me from the bedside table.  

"[insert the sound of my awful alarm clock noise, which is actually this song and makes my whole head spin with cat rage]" 

"You people all want me awake right now, don’t you?"  I grumbled, reaching for my meter, despite the fact that my eyes weren’t even close to open.  Damn it, the meter is in the bathroom.

I moved casually from the bed, down the hallway, and into my bathroom.  The fog is apparent at this point; I know I’m low, and now it’s almost a guessing game as to just how low I really am.  My eyes are sharp and focused on the black meter case on the bathroom counter, but all of my other senses are tangled.  The floor feels harder than normal against my feet.  The sounds of the birds outside the window sound louder, filling the room and blasting their trilling pattern into my brain.

I pricked my index finger and squeezed the blood onto the test strip.  A result of 39 mg/dl yawned back at me.

"Okay.  There you are," I replied, licking the blood off my finger.

Seeing the number usually brings the symptoms of the low on full-force, but this time, everything was in full-on casual mode.  My knees were weak and my hands were shaking, but for some reason, I felt the need to casually brush my teeth.  And then I casually brushe

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