I was reasonably calm–eating dinner in the garage inside my car, the dish wasn’t getting a signal in the storm–trying to figure out if a tornado could drop close to my house. As I tune in, I hear what I’m conditioned to hear, “This is crazy. Stuff is flying everywhere. You won’t believe this, another tornado is on the ground in Moore.”
That’s where I grew up. We’ve been through May 3rd, May 20th, and countless other “get in the shelter” moments. I currently live about 20 miles north of Moore in Oklahoma City, a place that missed the twisters last night. Moore was not so lucky, again. Voodoo. Yet, as a family member of mine put it, “I wasn’t freaking out this time. I knew it was only an F1, so we were calm. The fence is down and I think we lost a few shingles but I’m heading to bunko.”
I thought I kept it together. Sure, my pulse was up. The tornado sirens were going off by my house. I knew my family was close to the damage (everyone was safe). These were all of the classic PTSD triggers. Yet, I played it cool, I assumed.
Then an hour and a half later, I got the high blood sugar warning on the CGM (continuous glucose monitor).
As pictured above, I was trending along nicely, and then it hit. Stress, it’s real. With so many other factors involved in diabetes management, it’s rare to see stress play out by itself. My blood sugar eventually topped out at 270 and leveled back out by bedtime.
All things considered, a little cortisol-driven high blood sugar is no big deal.