Saturday, August 13, 2016

This one time, on a bike trip...

....I stuck a bike pump in my....

JOKING!


My good friend Shelly and I ventured out on a 2-day camping and bike touring trip with a daily travel distance of about 90km. Nothing overly difficult, OR SO WE THOUGHT!

This post is less about the bike trip and more about a "diabetic attack." keep reading.

It was fucking hot. I can't say it any other way. Temperatures were in the 30C's with humidity driving that up into the 40's. We were on fully loaded bikes for hours. We were moving slowly and making sure we were drinking a lot.  With 20km to go before reaching the campground I demanded we stop under that tree up there. I had to get off because I was feeling really sick.

We were both sunstroked. Heavily nauseous, headachey and general malaise. My skin was tingling and I was yawning and tired. Going into the day I forced the pace slower and insisted on drinking a lot thinking we could stave off heat exhaustion. Didn't fucking work.


As we sat there on the side of the road in the middle of fucking nowhere, the realization was becoming apparent. We could not go on. It took us awhile to get to that decision. Thing is, were were literally in the middle of nowhere. I drove an hour from home to Shelly's place where I left my car. We then drove 45 minutes from there where we parked her car. THEN we rode 65'ish km from there. So to get help from family and friends was a colossal favour. My brother came to our rescue and I am eternally grateful for his generosity.

Photo courtesy of Shelly

Then he got pulled over for speeding. Before the cop came to the window, he turned to me and said, "I'm telling him you were having a diabetic attack."

*HEAD SMACK*
*GROAN*

So now I'm trying to quickly come up with what a "diabetic attack" would seem like when I felt perfectly fine by this point, just tired and nauseous. Do I slump over? Do I try to justify what the hell a diabetic attack is?

Then he tells the cop he's taking me to the hospital.

YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME

I'm fucking fine. Look at me? Does he think the cop is going to take him seriously? I'm clearly coherent and not in need of emergency care. I'm trying not to roll my eyes into the back of my skull as the cop leans in and looks into the back seat at me. Why would the girl having a "diabetic attack" be squished into the backseat of a pickup truck that is barely big enough for a hamster?

While we were waiting I tested my blood sugar. I had been testing constantly because of the heat, exhaustion and malaise. My bro turns to me and says, "You couldn't have done that while he was at the window?!".

Oh hell no. I am not your sick excuse for speeding. So I guess testing my BG must seem, from the outside point of view, to be somewhat medical and "risky".

I was clearly fucking fine and I'm pretty sure the cop wasn't buying it any way.

the thing is... what the hell is a "diabetic attack" and why does anyone think it's okay to use a term like that? It's my brother. I love him to pieces I really fucking do but I can't help but feel a bit confused and saddened by that whole experience. So that's what you think of me eh?

Look at me in full-blown diabetic attack mode enjoying the beautiful clouds. (Photo courtesy of Shelly)

a diabetic attack..... shakes head.

4 comments:

  1. Ugh. I don't even know what to say. What a miserable experience. I'm glad he picked you up, but turning you into a medical excuse was not fair.

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    Replies
    1. Hmm I told a police officer I was low once when I got pulled over for a ticket. Of course I was 58, so I guess that was ok. I was in front of the restaurant when I got stopped. I tested and showed the 58. He sort of thought I might be joking. Ahh those were the days.

      I referred your blog to the TUDiabetes.org blog page for the week of August 8, 2016.

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