Thought I had enough carbs on board for a workout. Stopped at the gym on the way home. At 26 minutes into the work (I was going for 30), Dulce got up from her mat. Told my workout neighbor that meant it was time to go.
She timed it pretty well, didn’t really feel the effects until I hit the house. I grabbed her and a few things out of the car, greeted Macy when it hit me. Had husband get the meter out of the car since the one in the house was out of strips and the strips were upstairs.
Freaking 61!
We had a low party, I had protein Gatorade, and laid down and let it work. She keep checking on me every few minutes, even though I was willing to give in completely. After a while I picked back up and went out to dinner with the husband not in any shape to cook.
Diabetes sucks.
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