So last night our friends had a bond fire. Smores, beer, and good times were had well into the night. Due to said smores, misgauging a much earlier dinner, and an overly aggressive correction bolus later before bed, my surprise present to my wife at 2 am was her having to drag my ass out of bed for a glycogen shot.
Luckily, the alcohol was out of my system by then, but I still ended up eating nearly a quarter box of thin mints, three spoonfuls of nutella, and a few glucose tabs. Out of all of that, I can remember the cookies and one spoonful.
She also apparently made a call for an ambulance, but I had come to from the glycogen before she hung up and was able to dismiss them before the operator ended his list of questions. I've still got that mule-kick headache from everything, but I'll take that over an enraged significant other. All and all, I'm both very thankful and proud of how she managed to drag my ass back into the land of the living.
Social Plugin