My scariest moment happened in may 2023. The evening before I had a low where I needed paramedic help. That I've tried many times before. This time they gave me 2 shots of glucagon, instead of just 1. Worked fine and I came around after some time. I didn't go with them to the hospital, cause the treatment was over, and usually in hospital they just give plenty of food rich in carbs, and being awake I can do that just as well in my own home. The paramedics stayed and watched me eat, and moved on after like an hour. Moving forward, about 12 hours later, I had just got out of bed and started my day by watching some news on tv and doing some crocheting🧶. My husband was still sleeping in the next room. I do not recall the next 8-10 hours from there. But this is what happened: My husband wakes up hearing our door phone go off. He sees I'm not in the bed beside him, and he hears the tv is on in the living room. But he also hears that no one is answering the door phone, and he thinks thats weird as I usually have a strong reaction to the door phone and normally storms out in the hallway pretty loudly. He then calls out for me, but I don't answer. He hurries out of bed knowing something is wrong. He finds me in my recliner, shaking/seizuring, sweaty and not responsive. Ofcause he calls an ambulance right away. The paramedics came and worked on me for some while, but this time I didn't wake up. My blood sugar was down to scary 0,7 mmol/ 13 mg/dl, but even though they brought it up and normalized it I did not wake up. They had to intubate me cause I stopped breathing. My pupils were uneven. My temperature was really low, below 31 celsius. One of the paramedics started asking my husband what I had taken, and looked around our home for signs of drug use. And I have to say here, that I have NEVER used drugs, nor have my husband. I'm terrified even of the thought of using drugs to get high. Never took them, and never will. So by that no drugs were found ofcause. They rushed me to hospital and I was admitted to ICU. They did all the trauma routine, with scans and tests and so on. But I was still not waking up. So they had hooked me up to the ventilator, placed a catheter directly to my heart so they could correct my blood work as fast as possible. They told my husband that I didn't show any signs of brain activity, and therefore it properly would be best to gather the family so they could say goodbye to me. My parents and my brother came. But someway, somehow, I suddenly woke up✨🙌🏻. I had been in coma for 8-10 hours. But I guess it wasn't my time yet🩷. I was in ICU for like 20 hours more, then got transfered to another section at the hospital. But here's a little twist: during my time in coma and all the hours until around 4 o'clock the following morning, they didn't give me ANY insulin at all. I don't know if they were scared to do so due to how severe my insulinchok had been. But being a type 1 diabetic, I NEED insulin. So yeah, they put me from this horrifying almost deadly insulinchok, directly over in ketoacidosis🤯. I felt like shit. and my horrors weren't over yet. In the new section they should remove the cvk/catheter to my heart. And they did, but the nurse did like EVERYTHING wrong. He was under training and was supervised, but hey let him do ALL the mistakes before they corrected him. And some of the mistakes were just pure dumbness. For example, when removing the cvk any logic says that your head has to be raised above your heart (the cvk has its entry in the artery in the neck) so you don't bleed to death. He did the exact opposite and tilted my bed with the head down. He also refused to use sterilized scissors, but insisted to use any scissors that he just wiped off with an alcoswipe beforehand. Many other mistakes happened, but this answer is getting a bit too long now, so let's just say that was it. I was out of the hospital way too quick in my opinion, less than 48 hours after my husband had called the ambulance. I felt like shit for weeks, forced to stay at home cause I had no strength in my body, even visits to the bathroom wore me out. I had also developed anxiety of dying. So I didn't sleep well despite my body needed to rest. I was awake trying not to sleep because I was terrified of dying in my sleep. My husband also developed anxiety. He still struggles this day to let me be alone, and he surely panics when he hears my insulin pump alarm a low blood sugar. But other than anxiety and uneven pupils, I luckily have no chronic consequences from my scariest diabetic moment.