(Note: “Five-Minute Friday” is an activity I participate in based on Kate Motaung’s blog, linked at the bottom of the page. Each week, Kate posts a one-word prompt, and people write for five minutes straight, free-write style with no editing and no over-thinking.)
At the moment, time is my enemy. Tonight is another “bad diabetes” night at my house – a night when diabetes did not get the message that it needs to play by the rules. “The rules” say that if I make sure my son’s blood sugar is a certain number at bedtime, he should be good for the night. When he’s not – when he’s too low to safely tell him to go to bed and hope I see him in the morning – it means loading him up with carbs. “The rules” state that at his weight, 1 gram of carb is supposed to raise his blood sugar by 5, and I should see that mathematical formula play out when I retest him 15 minutes later.
But, tonight, diabetes doesn’t care. I could write the pretty nasty things I imagine it is saying to me right now, but I won’t give it the satisfaction.
Instead, here I am, waiting ANOTHER 15 minutes when really I wanted to be in bed over an hour ago. I will be tired tomorrow. The Friday before a long weekend always goes at its own pace, but tomorrow will be particularly painful.
But Owen will not remember any of it. He will not remember when, this last time I went up with spoonfuls of sugar in a cup of milk (since the sugary OJ I gave him before that did NOTHING), he sat up in bed as I instructed, drank it down obediently (some nights we reenact the scene from Steel Magnolias), and, without even opening his eyes, he said, “BOO!” and promptly fell back asleep.
He will not know that I have had to prick him 6 times (and counting) because I kept getting error messages on his test strips. He will expect me to be my bright-eyed self in the morning, and he will want my attention after school and may even ask for a family movie night since, after all, it’s Friday.
I will do my best to play along. I will not tell him how exhausted I am for having to care for him tonight. I love caring for him. I love making diabetes a little easier for him to manage. I love that he does not fully wake when I tell him he needs to eat this or drink that because he is low, because it means he trusts that I’ve got this. I always promise him I will be back to retest him and he doesn’t need to worry. I am not sure if he even hears me say this, but maybe he does subconsciously and it helps him sleep a little better. That makes one of us.
Time’s up. Time to retest.