I am lucky to be able to escape winter in Minnesota and spend several months in Arizona. Although I’ve always been active in sports such as tennis and golf, I have expanded my athletic repertoire to include hiking. I belong to two women’s hiking groups in Arizona. My primary group is a serious gung-ho group that hikes 8-12 miles with significant elevation changes on a typical Friday. Many of the places we hike are in mountainous areas where we have no cell phone coverage. My second group is more casual with shorter hikes on more populated trails. Although I certainly carry food, glucose tabs, and water with my casual group, I am not too concerned with diabetes causing a problem. So most of my comments below are related to my more rigorous and remote hiking excursions.
Although I’ve always made sure that my hiking companions know that I have Type 1, I’ve never done much else except ensure that my pockets and backpack have plenty of glucose tabs, granola bars, juice, and other food. This year it finally struck me that it was absolutely insane to repeatably go out into the no-wheres of Arizona without a Glucagon kit.
I stopped getting Glucagon kits years ago because I’ve never needed one and they expire so quickly. My husband would call paramedics 100% of the time before he would ever give me an injection. If I’m low at the grocery store or mall, no stranger will know to find the orange kit in my purse.
This hiking season I finally got a new Glucagon kit. Fortunately my hiking group includes a former RN and a former school principal who has a sister with Type 1. Even if they weren’t along, the others in my group are strong and confident women who would take control if needed. I wrote up a sheet to share with everyone describing the levels of hypoglycemia and directions to use the glucagon kit. I indicated that I would handle mild lows myself and they would probably never be aware of them. I wear a Dexcom G4 which gives me some guidance as to what is going on with my blood sugar. I also have a One Touch UltraMini attached to my belt and I have perfected testing while walking without falling off a cliff.
My favorite advice for moderate hypoglycemia is if they ask me if I am OK and I say “yes”, don’t believe me. I am getting better about admitting that I am low when asked. But old habits die hard and I don’t want my false bravado to fool anyone into thinking I’m safe when I’m rapidly getting into trouble. I also described symptoms that they might notice such as slurring of words and vacant eyes.
I discussed severe hypoglycemia and indicated that at this point I would be unable to eat food or drink juice. Although the Glucagon kit comes with instructions, I wrote up a clear and more succinct page of instructions using some of the images from the Glucagon website. I also mentioned that Lilly has an iPhone/iPad app if they want to review that. The weakness of that app is that the instructions are just a copy of the printed material that comes with the glucagon kit. Too wordy for an emergency situation IMO.
I feel confident that I will never be in a situation hiking where a Glucagon kit will be needed and I hope that my confidence is not misplaced. I am very aware that if I experience severe hypoglycemia, Glucagon will be only part of the solution. My hiking companions will still have to arrange for emergency help to evacuate me if I am sick from the Glucagon or the effects of severe hypoglycemia. In areas where there is no cell phone coverage, that might mean spitting our group with some hiking out for help and some staying with me. This whole scenario is something that I never want to visit, but my safety motto is to be prepared.
I often joke with my hiking companions that my aim every Friday is to not end up on the evening news. Unfortunately lost and injured hikers are a regular occurrence on Arizona newscasts. So far I have succeeded in that goal through hundreds of miles of hiking. I’ve been sore, dirty, and exhausted many weeks, but never on the news. Hallelujah!
I think it’s wise to have the glucagon and prep the group. Hopefully you’ll never need any of it. But that’s one of the things about living with diabetes — we have to plan for the absolute worst case scenario.
When I was doing some work that involved a lot of driving in very remote areas I found a device/service called SPOT that used satellites to allow me to call for help, if needed, or broadcast an “I’m Ok” message to loved ones. Thankfully I never had to use the rescue service, but it provided great peace of mind.
Thanks, Scott. I had never heard of this.
I bookmarked the website for Spot Connect and Spot Gen3 and will check it out further in the fall. Our whole group would be safer with such a device because any one of us could break a leg or something else. Diabetes is not the cause of every unfortunate thing that can happen out in the wild….
This week while we were in Maine, the news broadcasted about a woman from Tennessee who was hiking the Appalachian trail in Maine and went missing last Monday. Her husband of 42 years would meet up with her to give her supplies along the way, and she didn’t show up Monday. As of today, she is still missing. I’m glad you hike with others.
That’s really scary. In the fall before my winter hiking season, I will look into the Spot Gen3 as Scott J. suggested above. Although I hike alone on very populated trails in the Scottsdale area, I never go into the boondocks alone. The closest I have come to an emergency situation was not diabetes related at all. I almost fell backwards as we climbed various rocks in a stream bed. If I had not caught myself, I would have had a concussion at best. I get scared just thinking about it.
I just checked, as of today she is still missing.
“I don’t want my false bravado to fool anyone into thinking I’m safe when I’m rapidly getting into trouble.” Why is it always so hard to just admit that you’re low and need help or at least, need to just stop for 10-20 minutes? It’s one of the hardest things to do. Great post!
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