Waking Nick from a solid sleep in the middle of the night is not easy. He protests – who wouldn’t? Checking his blood sugar doesn’t demand anything of him; he can sleep through it and, other than an occasional sleepy “ow,” usually does.
But night like last night, when his blood sugar dropped to 48 (70 is the lower end of “good”), I need him to wake up and drink juice. Twenty minutes later, his blood sugar was up to 90 – yay! But to maintain that, some “real” food is necessary. This is where the real struggle begins – forcing him to really wake up enough to take bites, chew, swallow, keep eating. Having something yummy to feed him helps. Ice cream, for example, provides greater impetus to sit up. Last night I made toast after the juice bumped his blood sugar into a better place, then sprinkled the Splenda-brown sugar on top. Once I convinced him to wake up and try a bite, he woke up enough to wolf it down. This seems like a small triumph, but as midnight is passing by and my need to prevent hypoglycemia is escalating, a little brown sugar comes off like a miracle.
Last check (at 1:30 a.m.): 180, a bit high, but not unexpectedly so after the juice-toast combo, and quite decent for the middle of the night.
This morning: 130. Perfect. Whew.