I conducted my first basal test last night. (Yes. First. In five months. Don't judge.) I was nervous, and felt a bit like I was waiting for the SATs or something. Knowing that I had to hit a mark to be able to do the test in the first place? No pressure at all, folks.
I stopped eating at 4:30, did my last bolus at 6:30 (a correction - wtf? I ate a pre-packaged granola bar for 25g of carbs. I'm going to guess Kashi wasn't wrong, so I guess carb-ratio testing's next. Sigh) and then the adventure began.
I found myself starving to death. I don't know that I was even that hungry - it was just knowing that I wasn't supposed to eat that made me want to nom my arm. A nice cup of tea and some housecleaning provided enough distraction to get to bedtime, but it felt like a looooong time before I was under the comforter. B was a champ, and used his phone for the BG wake-up calls so I didn't have to be sleepless and grouchy alone. There was a lot of "Karen. Did you do the 3 a.m.? Wake up. You need to test." Which is friendlier than a buzzing Dexcom, so that's something?
In the end - after the starving and the stabbing and the sleeplessness - survey says my overnight basals are fine. I'm both relieved and hugely disappointed. February's sucked so bad, I was hoping for a villain to point to, a reason I'm not in control of myself and my numbers, something to blame for waking up feeling like crap on a daily basis. Instead, all I get is just a little more information and another stop to make in my supersleuth goose chase.