He wouldn't give me a cookie.
He was mean.
Laughed at me.
But wouldn't give me a cookie.
I really wanted a cookie.
I woke up. I'd been dreaming about a mean man and how he wouldn't give me a cookie even though he had lots and lots and lots of them. I checked the clock, it was 5 in the morning. I felt sweaty and clammy and the room felt hot. I nudged Joe. I asked him to get my blood monitor. I would have done it but I couldn't think of where it was.
He got up and gave it to me.
I was way low. Lower than I've ever been.
I had an orange juice - the emergency one we carry for exactly this eventuality.
We went back to sleep.
The cookie man was back.
I tested again two hours later and I was still very low. The only thing we had was a slice of pumpkin pie. (Don't ask.) So. I've just had that.
Pumpkin pie to the rescue!
This is rare for me. I'm usually pretty good with keeping my blood sugar levels under control. But I have to tell you, I'm glad that there was a mean man in my dreams letting me know that I needed and wanted a cookie.
How odd, the mind.