Alright, it’s time for my first confession. Last night, just before bed, I tore into the emergency chocolate. I keep it in a kitchen drawer for those times when my blood sugar takes a dive. Yes, there are other methods that are faster and more effective, but why can’t I get just a little enjoyment out of an otherwise unpleasant experience.
99% of the time—OK, more like 88.259% of the time, I don’t think about chocolate drawer. I’ve got fat-free yogurt for when I want something sweet. But a depressed mood told me, “Your body needs Hershey’s dark chocolate kisses. Well, your body doesn’t, but some noodle on the right (more touchy-feely) side of the brain does.”
So I feed chocolate to that noodle, gave myself a shot of fast-acting insulin, and went to bed.
When I woke up this morning my glucose was 235. I’d like to tell you there won’t be a next time, but there will be. It won’t be any time soon, though. And it might be mini Snickers bars or peanut butter cups.