I have an acquaintance (I refuse to consider him a friend for various reasons unrelated to this matter) who is a type I diabetic. When my wife was diagnosed with type II he appointed himself as her Diabetic Counselor. Just about every time he saw one of us he started with the cross-examination: “How is her blood sugar? Is she taking her medication? When did she see her doctor last?” She was being treated with oral medication and diet control, and her doctor had agreed that there was no problem with her having the occasional Coke (the only soft drink she drank prior to the diagnois). The first time we were at a party and he saw her with a can of Coke he almost went ballistic; I thought he was going to slap it out of her hand.
Hey Becky!
… did you take your pills? 
(I’m the big sister, I can do that.)
Yeah, I get the “you look pale, you should test.” and, more hesitantly, “…honey, when was the last time you tested?” some from my wife, mom and sisters.
I don’t even bother arguing any longer - because of the way that I am when I am low, I can only tell about half the time. I just whip out the meter and test right then.
When I’m low, I don’t think clearly, I am grumpy, pale, and the very last thing I want to do is eat or drink something. Once the first bite hits, it is so good.
(type 2, diet-controlled, diagnosed 1 1/2 yrs ago)
I went straight to management - my department head is Type II. We’ve organized a sign up sheet for food days within the department - works for everyone a lot better.
As for food for the entire site, we pointed out the need for choices. Otherwise it would be a burgers/potato salad/cake. Now we get some chicken, pasta, vegetables and fruit as well. That way the diabetics/vegetarians/Atkins people can enjoy it as well.
This thread has been quite informative… I’ve only known two acquaintances with diabetes, but I hope I wouldn’t bug them with the sort of stuff presented in the OP.
I’d hope that hardygrrl’s co-worker doesn’t have diabetes confused with hemophilia!
F_X
My mother once called the paramedics when I had a reaction. I had lost the ability to speak. She said I seemed like I was sleep walking in a nightmare and she couldn’t wake me. When she tried, I flailed my arms, stomped my feet and mumbled jibberish. All I remember is a nice paramedic feeding me orange juice.
Or PMS. No matter what kind of day I’ve had, if I get cranky, my husband says, “Oooh, PMSing today?”
No, you asshole, I’m not PMSing. I’m reacting to you being a total dickhead.
Re: Steel Magnolias. A few years ago at a lake house, I was awakened in the middle of the night by a friend’s daughter who had woken up to find her diabetic mother frothing at the mouth and moaning. She wouldn’t wake up at first so we all tried to get her to drink some juice. Sue got very combative and bit her sister on her finger (drawing blood) before whacking her other sister in the face while flailing her arms to shoo everyone away.
Naturally, my husband asked Sue the next morning if she was done PMSing.
Then count yourself lucky, or ask someone who’s seen you with low sugar. Usually I get great revelations, sweat as well, talk slower, get mad, and really have no idea what I’ve really done…until my wife filmed me once. And the mild dementia goes back as long as I can remember my sugar going low. It can display itself in getting stuck on one point and talking about that one thing, no matter how relevant it is to the conversation.
My sign of low sugar is blurry vision.