It is funny, because I feel as if I should say “Hello” each time I start a new post; so, “Hello”.

The challenge at hand: to sustain.

I am in my fifth week of P90X. I can feel the difference in my strength. I feel energized, yet exhausted at the same time.

Twice this last week and half my sugars have crashed. The first time was at 2:30 a.m. The reason being is that my metabolism has picked up speed and it is zipping through my food faster. I should have eaten more, but alas – I did not. I was completely content with the amount of food I had; it was almost 10pm and I felt I didn’t need to eat anything else. I was wrong.

A few things happen when my sugars plunge: I usually start dreaming about hunger or my sugars descending. I tell myself in my dream that “I think I need to eat.” Then, somehow my subconscious starts talking to my conscious and I realize “Shit, my sugars are low.”

It is such a drugged, sleepy, scary state I can’t even tell you. Sweat drips on my calves; I feel shaky, heavy – so heavy – like the way you feel when your clothes are wet; weighted-down. I usually just say, “Sheila”, and she is instantly awakened. To be honest, a few times I have tried not to wake her and she isn’t happy about it. Sometimes the weight feels so heavy, I just focus on food. However, it is easier with her help. She gets up, in a discombobulated state, and says “What do you need?” I fumble to the kitchen, almost, and sit in one of our chairs and just say, “orange juice . . . I don’t know peanut butter toast, Luna Bar . . .” Soon as I drink some orange juice and get some protein to attach to the sugar for the orange juice doesn’t hike my sugars up to come crashing back down, I start to get chilled. I usually then have this chilled sweat on me. It is great.

I was up for about a half an hour until I felt stable, then we both drifted back to sleep. But, my tummy was full, since I ate a whole meal in the middle of the night. I tried and prop myself up to let gravity do its job. That particular morning when I got up at 5 a.m., I kept belching. I am sure my gut was a bit confused.

A few days later I almost had a mirrored situation. This one was at 4:30 a.m., though. After I shoved my face full of food, I was up for the day. Then, after doing 15 minutes of my treatment I felt nauseous; so I ended my treatment a bit early – at least the jacket part, since I had to finish my oral antibiotic.

That morning I ate the normal amount of food at 7am, because I didn’t want to start my regular work-day off badly, so by 4 p.m. I was shaking, or on the brink of shaking.

This is the trick: each piece of food should equate an amount of fuel to propel me for each task. I have figured out how long a banana or alike will carry me. When I begin a new job, school, or even a different location at my current job (ER vs. outpatient clinic) I have to calculate approximately how much food I will need for the approximate amount of energy I will burn. The idea is to have everything in excess. I have to make sure I have food on me all the time, including water and pills to digest it.

Like right now, I ate my dinner at 630-7pm; this will not carry me until the next morning. I will have to probably have a Luna Bar or bowl of cereal, maybe both a half hour before I go to bed, otherwise –“Hello 230 a.m.”

My sugars’ crashing is one of least favorite chemical reactions – because I could fall into a diabetic coma. I thank God every time my subconscious kicks me into my conscious. I thank God that I begin to sweat and have those heavy feelings, because the amazing body, how the body works, is alerting me that there is trouble. “Roger, Roger we are falling fast”; like in an airplane.

I have very rarely had trouble with high sugars, but the low end is definitely the issue, and it is scary.

Sometimes you can plan all you want, and Sheila has been there to witness it many times; but flukes happen. Maybe I worked a little harder; maybe my body was fighting more infections and the food is literally being eaten up faster in order to fights; maybe the weather – hell if I know. I can do everything to the book at times, and then a crash.

I typically crash at night time probably 2-3 times a year. So this twice in a week or so is hands down because of my exercise level kicking my metabolism into high gear. I have to eat lots of protein Pac Man’s. That is my visual, with hand gestures, of protein gobbling the sugar molecules. It munches on it and attaches to the sugar molecule slowing it down, saying “I’ve got you! Yum!”

Yet, my doctor says my diabetic blood level is good, normal overall, day-to-day. Flukes happen. Shit happens does it not? He has also said to me that he has never seen at CFer go this many years – I was diagnosed at 19 with cystic fibrosis related diabetes – without insulin. Usually a CFer might make it 2 years, then insulin. I don’t really know what that means in the grand scheme, but it means to me I must be doing something right, even with my crashes. Insulin dependent diabetics also have crashes, so that isn’t necessarily the solution.

The only solution to sustain that I have come up with is to eat reasonably – perfectly sized meals where you aren’t overfull, yet, comfortable for 3-4 hours. Have them be contained with low “white-colored” carbohydrates, high protein, and throw some fat in there. Eat often, and honestly, eat shortly before bedtime.

Here comes the protein Pac Man’s: Munch! Munch! Munch! – Yum!

And I always say a little prayer that I wake up when I really need to wake-up.