low blood sugar

[This happened last spring 2014–scariest moment in China aside from this pickpocket experience.]

Last night I had a choco McFlurry and a small snickers for dinner.
I woke up this morning debating school breakfast or an Americano from Starbucks. I ate two bananas before leaving and took the rest of my medicine. I got on the metro and within 10 minutes I felt worse and worse.

Black dots began appearing and I thought back to being eight—in the shower experiencing the same sensation only surrounded by brightly colored animated fish swimming on the new shower curtain. China doesn’t have shower curtains and people were tucked under my armpits on this metro. I thought, I could walk—squeeze my way out and find a bao’an [metro rent-guard]. Wrong.

My legs were liquid. I tried to whisper ‘jiuming/救命, help’ and no sound could vibrate off my clammed up tongue. Black was closing in—I thought this is how we die—fade to black. I bent my head down, holding tight to the pole and said Green Tara’s mantra. Finally at Dongmen I took a seat and bent my head. When I dis-embarked I called my mom and started crying—it was low blood sugar, she said.

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About heidaway

Living-Breathing-China Dragon
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