Daisy awoke normally. She stirred and opened her eyes a little expecting the morning light to be flooding into her bedroom, only to find that it wasn't. It was still dark outside, but she could make out the shapes of the familiar objects that surrounded her. Books, cushions, a teddy bear. The dim glow of the landing light made things just about visible.
She must have had at least a couple of hours before needing to get up for school, so she rolled over on to her side to drift back off to sleep...or at least she would have done had she have been able to. The left hand side of Daisy's body wouldn't move. Not even a little bit. Not at all.
Panic started to set in almost immediately. Her arm and hand were limp, fingers splayed out and her leg, motionless. Help. If she were to shout loud enough, she would surely be able to wake her mother in the room next door. Opening her mouth she got ready to scream. She produced no sound, not even a murmur. Not even a whisper. Silence.
What should she do? Dreadful thoughts polluted her mind. Was she paralysed? Would she ever be able to walk again? She was only 11years old! She'd worked herself into such a state that the possibility of her thinking straight, and coming to a logical decision, was unlikely. Calm down, Daisy.
It was noticeable to her that the pace of her thumping heart had slowed. It no longer felt like it was eager to make a rapid escape from the contours of her chest. Daisy began to dedicate her focus to each, individual limb; pleading with her muscles, begging them for movement. They remained still. Not even a twitch. Not even a twinge. Lifeless.
She had to do something. She had to get out of bed somehow. Daisy rolled on to her stomach. Using every bit of energy in the right hand side of her body, she twisted around until both legs were dangling over the side of her bunkbed. Yes, her bunkbed. Not only was she unable to move, but she was also 6ft off the ground. For some reason, thoughts of Julio Iglesias being determined to beat his diagnosis of life-long paralysis popped into her head. If that was what God had planned for her too, she was going to change his mind.
Daisy put her right foot on the ladder of the bunkbed and clung on to the higher metal bars with her working hand. Fearful, she attempted to 'bunny-hop' towards the ground. Only using one hand and one leg, this wasn't the best idea. Her foot slipped out from underneath her. She lost the grip she had and began to grasp at thin air. She fell.
Her body and the hard, wooden floor collided with a tremendous bang. For the first time since she had awoken, Daisy's vocal chords released sound. Sound in the form of a wail, a scream, a cry for help.
The door to the bedroom swung open and her mum entered, panicked and flustered. She picked Daisy up off of the floor, held her and asked her what had happened. Daisy still couldn't speak. She was struggling to even breathe. She gasped and tried to inhale, but her lungs felt as though they had no capacity, even for oxygen.
When her mother realised she wasn't going to get a response, she took action by addressing her first concern. She tested Daisy's blood - 2.4, just as she'd expected. Lucozade, digestive biscuits, some TLC. Before she knew it, Daisy was back to normal. She told her mum of her frightening and strange experience. She clenched the fist of her left hand and then opened it. She wiggled her toes on her left foot. Relief.
Daisy got back into bed. Her mum tucked her up and kissed her forehead before returning to her own room. Daisy closed her eyes, just as the sun began to rise outside. She thought of how that was the worst hypo she had ever had. She hoped she would never experience a hypo like that again. Daisy fell asleep. Her Diabetes Devil rubbed it's hands together in delight, rejoicing in it's mischief and the trouble it had caused.
She must have had at least a couple of hours before needing to get up for school, so she rolled over on to her side to drift back off to sleep...or at least she would have done had she have been able to. The left hand side of Daisy's body wouldn't move. Not even a little bit. Not at all.
Panic started to set in almost immediately. Her arm and hand were limp, fingers splayed out and her leg, motionless. Help. If she were to shout loud enough, she would surely be able to wake her mother in the room next door. Opening her mouth she got ready to scream. She produced no sound, not even a murmur. Not even a whisper. Silence.
What should she do? Dreadful thoughts polluted her mind. Was she paralysed? Would she ever be able to walk again? She was only 11years old! She'd worked herself into such a state that the possibility of her thinking straight, and coming to a logical decision, was unlikely. Calm down, Daisy.
It was noticeable to her that the pace of her thumping heart had slowed. It no longer felt like it was eager to make a rapid escape from the contours of her chest. Daisy began to dedicate her focus to each, individual limb; pleading with her muscles, begging them for movement. They remained still. Not even a twitch. Not even a twinge. Lifeless.
She had to do something. She had to get out of bed somehow. Daisy rolled on to her stomach. Using every bit of energy in the right hand side of her body, she twisted around until both legs were dangling over the side of her bunkbed. Yes, her bunkbed. Not only was she unable to move, but she was also 6ft off the ground. For some reason, thoughts of Julio Iglesias being determined to beat his diagnosis of life-long paralysis popped into her head. If that was what God had planned for her too, she was going to change his mind.
Daisy put her right foot on the ladder of the bunkbed and clung on to the higher metal bars with her working hand. Fearful, she attempted to 'bunny-hop' towards the ground. Only using one hand and one leg, this wasn't the best idea. Her foot slipped out from underneath her. She lost the grip she had and began to grasp at thin air. She fell.
Her body and the hard, wooden floor collided with a tremendous bang. For the first time since she had awoken, Daisy's vocal chords released sound. Sound in the form of a wail, a scream, a cry for help.
The door to the bedroom swung open and her mum entered, panicked and flustered. She picked Daisy up off of the floor, held her and asked her what had happened. Daisy still couldn't speak. She was struggling to even breathe. She gasped and tried to inhale, but her lungs felt as though they had no capacity, even for oxygen.
When her mother realised she wasn't going to get a response, she took action by addressing her first concern. She tested Daisy's blood - 2.4, just as she'd expected. Lucozade, digestive biscuits, some TLC. Before she knew it, Daisy was back to normal. She told her mum of her frightening and strange experience. She clenched the fist of her left hand and then opened it. She wiggled her toes on her left foot. Relief.
Daisy got back into bed. Her mum tucked her up and kissed her forehead before returning to her own room. Daisy closed her eyes, just as the sun began to rise outside. She thought of how that was the worst hypo she had ever had. She hoped she would never experience a hypo like that again. Daisy fell asleep. Her Diabetes Devil rubbed it's hands together in delight, rejoicing in it's mischief and the trouble it had caused.
oh daisy, how scary for you! and such determination for a little girl. you're lucky you didn't break something falling like that!
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