It has been a long week.
The heat does funny things to my little diabetic. Some days it curdles her insulin and makes her as a high as a kite. Other days the sun makes the insulin absorb too quickly and she drops like a stone causing scary hypos and incurring massive sugar consumption.
The perfect day for a diabetic is overcast with a warm spell coming through the clouds.
Pretty much everything else shags up her blood sugars. (Excuse the phrase)
Last night I failed again as a mum.
My mattress, and new bed was far too comfortable, my exhaustion too overwhelming. After a week of persistent night checks and a husband who works away from home a lot, I threw myself into bed at 10.30 and let out a little whimper as my head crashed against the pillow.
Then I quickly got up again to check Molly’s blood sugars, as clearly I had forgotten.
My heart sank when I saw an angry number of 24 flash on the screen. (Normal is 4-8)
It is a good job both of the twins were asleep or they would have some colourful new words to share with their teacher this morning.
I dosed her up on insulin, checked her keytones (scary little feckers) were ok and went back to my bed.
Often when she is flying so high, sleep can be impossible to achieve.
But last night, with fresh ironed sheets against my bruised crossfit collar bone, and a new mattress under my back, I hit dreamland before I even thought about sheep.
Then I woke up at 6am in a state of panic.
My trusty alarm on my phone – set for 1.30am seemed to have not gone off. In fact I couldn’t even find my phone. It was later found in two pieces by the wall….
The overwhelming diabetic parent fear overwhelmed me again and I launched like a mother possessed into Molly’s room, finger pricker in hand, boobs going astray in my PJ top.
First check – she was breathing – so I felt happier about that.
Blood test – 16.9 – didn’t feel great about that.
Molly roused from her sleep, “what time is it she murmured?” I told her it was just past 6.
“Why are you here?” she questioned, with a trace of irritation creeping into her voice.
I confessed it all by her bedside. Her high sugars, my need for sleep, my ignoring the alarm.
I felt better,
She turned to be, eyes wide open…
“Well I am not dead Mother, do you didn’t do too badly, now leave me be, I need my sleep!”
Kid has a point!
(In association with Carpetright)