I started this morning with a bang.  I checked my blood sugar when I woke up and it was 111.  I have been doing fairly well at the wake up blood sugar lately.  That hasn’t been easy though.  I haven’t been doing so great on the amount of insulin I have been taking to adjust before going to bed.  In the last, I have awaken with night sweats all but last night.  I still can’t figure out why my brain doesn’t immediately assume my blood sugar is low.  It has happened more times than I can remember.  Yet, when I wake up in the middle of the night, drowning in my own sweat, I immediately think my wife has turned the heater on to spite me.  Mamma tends to like the temperature much, much, MUCH higher than I do.  Getting up and getting sugar in to my body is not really that big of a deal.  The difficult part is only getting as much sugar as I need.  When the cravings start, it is very hard to stop.  I am still completely amazed about how powerful and how completely controlling the sugar cravings are.  I think if I were to go low enough, I could probably suck the sugar out of someone else’s blood.  That explains vampires.  It’s insane.  We should ask the diabetic mothers of the world, which cravings are worse: sugar lows or pregnancy.  Because of these extreme cravings, it is very hard to limit myself to just the sugar I need and not wake up in the morning with a greeting on my One Touch. HI.  One of these days I will take the time to find out just how high “HI” is.
To make things more interesting, if I ever get up in the middle of the night, Mamma comes running to check on me very soon after I leave the bed.  That should be irritating.  I am 30 years old.  I do not need to be checked on.  At least you would like to believe that.  True.  That is a complete lie.  In my sleep, I have super powers.  I can walk, have conversations, pick tomatoes, and do just about anything you tell me to.  Oh yeah, in my sleep, I can eat and I do not seem to ever get full.  You’re never full when you’re awake either.  Why do you think I quit?  I ate a whole box of corn dogs once.  I am fairly certain I did not take any insulin.  You should have seen my blood sugar the next morning.  You should have seen his wife’s face the next morning when she found all the corn dog wrappers in the trash.  One Touch said, “HI” and refused to give me a number no matter how much insulin I took.  Diabetics are supposed to have this almost obsessive control over what they eat.  Yet, I am an insulin dependent diabetic that eats in my sleep.  That’s just wrong.