I’ve always had the worry in the back of my head… the “what if”. Last night we lived it out.
We’d stayed up later than usual (normally I try to head for bed around 10:30, last night it was 11:45) because Tommy was on and I’ve never seen it (surprising, given how much I enjoy a good rock-opera – I didn’t enjoy it much, actually). It was going to be on til 12:30 and there’s no way I’m staying up that late on a weeknight, so Ken (who’s seen it) summed up the ending and we went up to bed. While we did we were chattting and something got me thinking… distracted… while I was giving my overnight insulin. (Small aside, I take two types of insulin – a fast-acting one for meals/daytime, and a long-acting one for overnights.) When done injecting I looked down to see my short-acting insulin in my hand. Damn. The problem is that I give a large dose of the long-acting insulin, and I’d just given that quantity – a larger dose than I’d take if you added up a whole day’s worth of fast-acting doses. Bad. Very bad. Enough insulin to kill me, easily. So back downstairs we went, trying to quickly figure out our best option. That ended up being honey… a half-cup full (at first) and then testing my bloodsugar every 20 minutes for the next two hours, adding in more honey (another half-cup, all up) as needed. Ken stayed with me the entire time. The thing we’d been talking about and that had me distracted was the sudden death of someone close to you (like keel over and die – he’d had a sales rep bow out of a meeting because someone died in the middle of a golf game). For that reason, Ken refused to go to bed without me. 
We got to bed around 2am. I’m alive (clearly), and have a really angry stomach, still. Gonna be a rough day with that and how tired I am. Hopefully it’ll be the kind of mistake I never make again.