Halloween is Over. Halle-freakin-lujah.

I don't know if you know this, but I hate Halloween.  People think it's because I'm diabetic, and that certainly doesn't help, but I've pretty much always hated it.  I simply don't get it.  At all.

It's all just so weird.

Let's terrify children.  It's hilarious.

Let's put on skanky costumes.  On our children and ourselves.  It's awesome to see normally upstanding professions like nurses and cops look super sexy. Or sexy cartoon characters.  Those are fun.

Let's go to strangers houses and ask for candy.  Repeated for hours on end.  This results in mass amounts of candy, none of which is good for anybody, much less a diabetic.

Let's deal with the mood swings, tooth decay, stomachaches, and fighting that are the neverending gifts this candy provides.

Let's celebrate death by putting hanging nooses on our houses and pretending to have dead bodies hang out of our cars.  It's SO FUN!

Isn't this hilarious?  What with the decapitation and the blood?

I hate it.  I hate it all.  But I do it, because, as Sheldon would say, it's "the social convention."  I don't do all of it, of course.  My house remains giant spider free, because, really. REALLY?  Basically, I do the bare minimum. I allow my children to dress up and go trick or treating.  I hand out candy if people come over, but our neighborhood is not one really frequented, the houses are far apart, and the driveways are long. It's not great trick-or-treating fodder.

I am what is known as a Halloween grinch, and I am OK with it. (I ADORE fall, though, and wish we didn't have to mutilate pumpkins, and we could just display them without faces and eat them).

Now, let's talk about this particular Halloween, which was actually the scariest one I've had yet.

I was out with my friends walking around in cold weather, in one of those "cool" neighborhoods where people go all out and depict suicides in the windows, because - hilarious! - watching candy overflow everywhere, and I went low.  I had eaten a cookie before we left, I had a Starburst, I still had to filch some carbs from a plastic pumpkin.  I was grumpy, and I apologize to my friends, because really, when I'm in a mood like that, I shouldn't be around people. My fuse is very short when I get like that, and giant spiderwebs just aren't helping.  Also, I like to pretend I'm normal, and that diabetes isn't affecting me 24/7.  When it's obvious like that, I don't enjoy it.

Anyway, I kept eating, walking, and trying to pretend it's not the worst day of the year, and my sugars came up and I was fine.  Came home to my teenager and her friends, who were gracious enough to come over at a last minute invite, and had a warm drink, Dex didn't like me going high, but it didn't spike that much.  I was good.

Until sometime in the night, I woke up, again feeling very very low.  The Dex must have beeped and buzzed, and that's possibly what woke me, or maybe it was the low itself.  Dex said 54, with an angled arrow downward. Here was my "thought process":

I am "low."

I should do something when I'm "low".

I can't remember what that is.

I have a pump now.  I should do something with that.  Turn it off?  I am "low".  I need to do something. What do I do when I'm "low"?

I'm pretty sure I need to do something.

Ah.  Check sugars.  That's what I do.  (BTW, this is wrong. Always treat first)

My meter said 106.  I was aware enough to know that wasn't right, I felt way too crappy for that.  I figured I had something on my hands, so I got up and rinsed my fingers and checked again.  Yes. 54.  Exactly as Dex said.

The getting up, the cold water, maybe just waking up more, SOMETHING kicked my brain into gear.

HELLO!  IT'S HALLOWEEN! YOU HAVE MORE CANDY IN THE HOUSE TONIGHT THAN YOU EVER DO!!  YOU'RE LOW!!  EAT IT NOW!!!  EAT IT ALL IF YOU HAVE TO!!!!

And I did.  And I felt better.

And then I tried not to freak out that I wasn't really aware of how to treat the low.  That my brain was that affected.  It must have been because I was so tired, plus the low.  And so I talk myself out of it, because all's well that ends well.

And then I dreamed of my family dying horrible deaths, and all I was worried about was what I was going to wear to the press conference, because for some reason, it was national news.

And then I got a migraine, courtesy of diabetes.

Good bye Halloween, hello National Diabetes Month.  Welcome.