I am a type one diabetic. It's a whole other subculture that I belong to, one that few understand who have not experienced this profoundly frustrating condition. It's also somewhat liberating. The lack of understanding in greater society contributes not just to the exasperation of us T1s but also to the flagrant manipulation of society to our own evil ends. What better way to get out of eating pizza in 40C temperatures than to look apologetic and say "I'm sorry, I didn't bring my insulin". Or what better way of attracting attention to yourself at a restaurant, than to whip out the device and plunge it into your midsection, all the while grinning manically at other nosey lunchers. What fun. But the best is the involuntary hypo.

Now, don't get me wrong, by and large hypos suck. But once in a while you'll get a pearler. Basically your blood sugar level shoots down rapidly, for one of a myriad of reasons too numerous to go into here. And (and this is important) you are COMPLETELY unconscious of it, either you're asleep, or so absorbed in whatever else it is that you're doing that you miss the warning signs.

And then you have the hallucinations better than anyone on any other trip. Ok, well not that great - but they're pretty good and completely free. I've heard all kinds of wonderful tales of people who have undergone this extraordinary phenomenon. From boarding the wrong bus and dancing up and down the aisles, to screaming "F**K YOU!" at their grade 4 teacher. One guy got caught by his parents, stark naked with his (equally naked) girlfriend - covered in banana puree. Apparently she'd been trying to feed him the bananas to get him over the low, but he'd refused to eat (a common reaction) and spat it out everywhere. Imagine the parents' faces......kinky.

But back to me. Last night at four in the morning, I finally had a really quality hypo. First I dreamed that one of the ladies I was lunching with (don't know who she was or where she came from, but she looked a little like the woman from The Practice) went all weak and started grabbing chocolate cake and gorging herself on it. Then I clearly remember thinking, "I'll be ok, I'll just have another slice". Upon which, I woke up.

"Damn" methinks, "means I have to get up". About ten minutes later I finally did (usually takes a while, for some reason even though I know I need food, I know Bad Things Will Happen if I don't get food, it takes me forever to move).

Then the real fun began. I fell over on the way to the kitchen (about two meters from the bed). And I just sat there and giggled uncontrollably, like someone very drunk. Eventually I got up, still giggling, and whispering "shhhhhhhh" to myself like some psychopathic moron. "Quiet!" I whispered, loudly, to myself "You'll wake him up!".

"I'm already awake" came the muffled voice from beneath the bed sheets.

More giggling.

Finally I managed to get to the fridge, but then I didn't know what to eat. "Sugar!" my body was telling me, but my brain wasn't having any of it.

So I selected (get this) a tomato.

Go Me! A tomato is going to do all of bloody no good whatsoever!!! Eventually my brain finally listened to the minuscule voice of rationality before it beat it to a pulp and I grabbed the ice-cream with the chunky bits of fudge in it. Beautiful. Then I sat staring at the blank TV screen, shovelling the ice-cream down my throat and watching the Teletubbies prance around. On a blank screen. And I thought this was HYSTERICAL. I was cackling with laughter. Must have sat there for about a half hour. After the tubbies came wonder woman, after wonder woman came the Adams family, all in quick succession, all moving in some kind of lucid dance, left and right they swam. And I watched, fascinated.

Eventually I started to recover sanity. Looking up, I saw my husband looking down at me, and expression of profound concern on his face. "Tallula?" he said, "Are you ok?". Apparently I'd been talking alternately to myself and to him, the entire time. And the poor boy was very confused. "Must have been a Bad One", he said, king of the understatement. "Yeah," I replied, queen of the understatement, "but fun".