4th Annual Diabetes Blog Week – 5/15/13 – Day 3

Today’s Prompt:
Today we’re going to share our most memorable diabetes day. You can take this anywhere…. your or your loved one’s diagnosis, a bad low, a bad high, a big success, any day that you’d like to share. (Thanks to Jasmine of Silver-Lined for this topic suggestion.)

My most memorable day in 17+ years in living with Type 1 Diabetes was actually just within the last couple of months. I have touched on this in previous posts, but it is important. I woke up Easter Sunday morning. Thank God that I woke up. I honestly thought I was dreaming. I was laying down, covered by a sheet, almost completely. The sheets were actually covering my eyes. I knew I was waking up though. I remember holding on to the sheets, but not moving them. I remember seeing a post on the wall. I had always been told that you can’t read words or see numbers when you are asleep or dreaming. Which, ok, whatever. But I could read everything on the poster. At that point I realized there was an armband around my wrist. I picked it up to my head so I could read it. Still not moving the sheets mind you. I saw my name and patient code of EMS. I happen to work at this hospital so I knew what it meant and I knew then that it was real. I still didn’t know why I was there though. I sat straight the hell up. I remember them calling my name and telling me to lay back down. “UM, no but thank you. What is going on?” I do remember neither my boyfriend or my mother was there, and I was just lost. I needed someone. They said they were both in the waiting room. “Thanks but get one of them back here, and by the way, how long have I been here?” “Oh only about ten minutes.” Seriously. That’s it. Ok. Well my boyfriend came back and told me what had happened. I was in shock, I really was. He said I was moving around in bed and pretty much hitting him. It woke him up. He definitely realized what was going on and why I was acting like I was. He grabbed my kit and tested my, took a couple of tries, but finally got it. He got readings of 40 mg/dl and thereabouts. He grabbed my glucose gel and tried to get me to take some but even though my eyes were open, no one was home. This didn’t work. He called my mom and she drove over. Keep in mind this is all in the wee hours of the morning. She got in my face and couldn’t get me to respond. That was it. He grabbed me, threw me over his shoulder, and brought me to the ER. We were literally minutes away and 911 would have taken forever and a day, plus he knew I would be pissed if I found out I was brought over in an ambulance for some reason.
At any rate, this day will not soon fade from my memory. And I am more grateful than words could ever express that he was home when I needed him. See, he works as an engineer offshore. So he is only home with me for half of our lives together. I don’t know what I would have done without him. I just know I would have been another case of the increasing cases of “Dead in Bed” that is coming up more and more. It’s just unthinkable how fortunate I am to have him. And I try to let him know that every chance I get. He has stuck with me for nearly 10 years now, and I can only pray that he keeps putting up with me and everything that is entailed of my complicated crap disease. I, also am greatfull to the ER doc and the nurses that finally were able to find a line to give me emergency medications via IV. “Did you know you have no veins?” No, really tell me more.

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