Unexpected Result from Torn Calf Muscle: Lower Blood Sugar

I panicked about three things when I first tore my calf muscle:

• Possibly needing surgery
• Gaining weight
• Higher blood sugar

I was quickly assured I wouldn’t need surgery. Phew! That only left me two things to worry about.

Even on Ozempic, I’m not losing weight. Then again, I’m only on a .25 mg dose, the lowest you can take. (Some people who take Wegovy, the weight-lose equivalent of Ozempic, are on a 2+ mg dose.) Ozempic has lowered my a1C to 6.1 for the last year, which is exactly what I needed it to do and why I’m on it. Shedding a few stubborn pounds would only be a bonus.

But what was going to happen when I couldn’t take my daily walks or play pickleball?

The first two days after the Pop/Snap (as I refer to the torn calf muscle), my morning numbers were 115. Not terrible (especially compared to where I’d been pre-Ozempic, which was 160-180). But it was higher than the mid-to-upper 100s that I’d been clocking. I’m rarely over 110 anymore.

Uh oh.

I freaked out that the lack of activity was already disrupting things, and I feared my numbers would climb higher. Maybe back into the 120s. Or above. Crap.

But then a wild thing happened. The next few days after that, my blood sugar hovered between 100-105. And I wasn’t even watching my diet, especially the first weekend after the Pop/Snap. I fell into a funk and could not resist the siren call of comfort food.

I fully expected numbers in the 120s afterward. Nope. Low 100s. There were even a few dips below 100.

Which I guess most people aim for below 100. Between 80-99 is considered normal. I feel it if I get into the 90s, especially the low 90s, as I did one morning. I never suffer from dizziness, but I went to get out of bed and immediately sat back down.

“You okay?” Wayne asked.

“I don’t feel quite right.”

“Maybe you just got up too fast.”

“Maybe.”

So I sat there until the spinning stopped, but as soon as I started walking to the bathroom, I felt lightheaded enough to grab the wall.

“I don’t feel right, babe,” I called to Wayne.

“What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

It wasn’t until I saw a low 90 on my glucometer that I connected the dots.

“Can you bring me up that lemonade I was drinking yesterday?” I asked Wayne, finally knowing how he could help. My blood sugar was too low. (For my body. Doctors scoff when I tell them this, but it is what it is.)

A quick swig of that did the trick. Dizziness remedied, I felt steady enough to head downstairs on my own.

Anyway, my blood sugar numbers had remained low —until this past week when I returned to my normal routine. I noticed them climb to the upper 100s again, with a few days slightly over.

One day was even 118. That could’ve been attributed to all the time I spent on Threads, though. I believe social media raises my blood sugar. I don’t have patience for the vapid vanity and rage baiters that permeate most platforms. It stresses me out.

Ah, stress. It’s as much a contributing culprit to high blood sugar as a poor diet or lack of exercise. But even exercise can stress the body too —especially anything high impact/energy. Every time I’ve tried to incorporate more cardio into my routine with the intent to get healthier, I don’t. The weight remains, and my blood numbers rise. (But mentally, I do feel better exerting myself sometimes.)

Not that I was sedentary during my almost five-week recovery. I worked my upper body with light weights and did PT-style exercises to strengthen my calf.

But I relished the break from feeling the pressure of being somewhere to play pickleball by a certain time on certain days. Or rushing to get out of the house as early as possible to try and beat the heat for my morning walks. (Although, I did lament not being able to walk when we were gifted a few below-average gorgeous crisp June mornings.)

But, like during the lockdowns, I liked having a reason for not being anywhere but home. Time moved more slowly and intentionally. I caught up on projects long set aside and it felt wonderful.

I even decided not to stress about my weight. I tried to watch what I ate, and the first week I maybe ate less by default. Getting around wasn’t the easiest. I found myself procasti-foraging in the kitchen a lot less.

But I also ended up sneaking some sweet treats (popsicles) I’d luckily bought before I tore my calf muscle. Both my blood sugar and weight stayed in check.

Which once again leads me to believe there really is something to my “happy cells are healthy cells” mantra. No fuss, no muss leads to unexpected side effects like lower blood sugar!