Fetal Position

I must admit it; panic had taken a hold of me. This isn't an easy admission. Letting a shuddering fear control your body isn't the best thing for anyone, least of all a diabetic. But there I was, enveloped in sudden terror and curled up in a fetal position on the floor in the middle of the kitchen.

...a few seconds are as painful as the immense difficulty of removing food from a package when it seems your life depends on it.

It's often been said that when one approaches death, one can observe, in rapid succession, one's entire life: what was said, what was done, what was experienced, what was suffered, and what was enjoyed. Although it's clear that I was very far from approaching death that night in 2018, the fact is that I felt like I was dying. The sensation of severe hypoglycemia was neither uncommon nor unexpected in my life; I've experienced those symptoms for decades. However, hypoglycemia has a "life of its own"; sometimes, it goes unnoticed and is harmless; other times, it insists on imposing new, challenging, and unpleasant experiences.

I had returned from my usual swim. This day I had been in the ocean. Everything seemed normal until I felt that diabetic punch "pierce" my stomach.

"Eat something!" my conscience screamed at me.

The first thing at hand was a handful of cookies. They weren't elegantly served on a plate with a napkin. They were snatched from the cardboard box, from the aluminum wrapper; a few seconds are as painful as the immense difficulty of removing food from a package when it seems your life depends on it. I ate two. Chocolate with a creamy, white filling. Calm at last.

Already certain that I had glucose in my system, I let myself collapse. Not only was the "fetal position" not in the cards, but it had never happened to me before. But a few minutes later, that's exactly how I found myself. Curled up inside myself, impatiently waiting for the effect to arrive in its own time.

It would have been more effective to drink juice, maybe Coca-Cola. Yes, but the difficulty of getting juice out of the refrigerator and pouring it into a glass, or even drinking it straight from the package, was immensely greater than simply opening a package of sugary cookies. I now remember a similar episode many years earlier, where I did lose consciousness for a moment. The soda was poured into a glass – a crystal glass – and the result was that my wrists and my face were covered in blood from hitting the floor and from the broken glass. Even in the unconsciousness imposed by severe hypoglycemia, we remember, we learn, we apply.

That fetal position that titles this post lasted – how long? – five minutes maybe, perhaps 10. The blood received the sugar, the body distributed it everywhere. Life came back. Happiness. Appreciation. A future.