D-Blog Week: My Memorable Day with Diabetes

Trying to think of my most 'memorable' day with diabetes has proved itself to be a challenge.  I reckon this is probably because when you've lived with it for 16 years, it begins to feel like every day blends into the next.  Diabetes feels like the norm and nothing more than a tedious concoction of highs, lows, prescriptions, appointments, blood tests, injections and so on and so forth.  Still there are times when diabetes surprises me, for the better and otherwise.

A few years ago I went to stay with a friend who lived almost 80 miles away from me.  Things were different then and I was at a stage with my diabetes where I tried to act as though it didn't exist.  I rarely tested my blood sugars (unless I thought I was dying), attempted to delay telling anyone I was diabetic and make up my blood sugars to write in my log book before an appointment with my clinician.  I remember absentmindedly taking an injection on the train, completely guesstimating how much insulin to administer, and not giving my diabetes another thought for the rest of the journey.  In all honesty I probably wouldn't have let it cross my mind for the rest of the weekend, had it not been for what happened that same night.

It was exciting!  I hadn't seen my friend for a couple of months or so and had really been looking forward to it.  We'd had a really nice evening, catching up and spending time.  There had barely been a moment of silence since we'd been reunited, until duty called and my friend nipped to the toilet.  I recall feeling tired and weak all of a sudden, although somehow it felt like I was barely even there at all, and decided to lay down.

The next thing I knew I was in a dream, at least it felt that way.  It was like something pulling me between two states of being and that 'something' was the person frantically rubbing my feet.  They were shouting "Daisy!" and, every now and then, I'd open my eyes a little and I'd catch a glimpse of unfamiliar faces.  I remember obediently sipping the orange juice from the glass that was being held to my lips and chewing jam on toast but forgetting to swallow.

When I came back to the waking world, I was told that I had a hypo which caused me to become unconscious.  My friend had called their grandfather, who just happened to be a type 1 diabetic and a doctor and luckily lived only next door, and he gave me a glucagon shot.  Not only did it put a complete downer on the rest of the weekend, but it was also one of the most terrifying and not to mention embarrassing evenings of my life (being fifteen years old and waking up surrounded by strangers with your socks off and strawberry jam all over your face is not fun!)

It's perhaps a little bit ironic that I don't actually remember the majority of one of my most memorable days with diabetes, but I do know that it changed my attitude towards my diabetes and made me more responsible for it.  That was the first time I have ever become unconscious because of my diabetes and I hope it will be the only time.  I genuinely owe my life to those who helped me that night and it's them I remember.

Day 25: The Strangest Hypo Ever

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.