Sunday, August 18, 2013

The party pooper

We took his car, because mine was too filthy. For a second I thought of moving DEB (my Diabetes Emergency Box) from my car to the other one, but then I was like: what the heck? I had checked my purse for glucose strips, needles, infusion sets, small cans of regular coke and insulin. All present, so no need for DEB. As soon as we got to the party, the first low kicked in. I was a bit annoyed, because we had not been offered a drink yet and I desperately needed some glucose. I didn't hear much of the conversation, because my brain was focused on getting sugar. That's when I remembered the small cans of regular coke in my purse (thank goodness for my organisation talent when it comes to D, even in smaller purses). I turned around to have my coke, for I didn't want anyone to notice I was having a drink before them. It would be kinda rude to the host, to bring your own drinks and give them the impression they were late serving drinks, right? They noticed the drink anyway and hubby told them I probably had a low to fix. The host felt embarrassed and asked if they could bring me something to get over it? I shook my head and finished my coke and turned back to join in. Great entree... Not that I'm ashamed to admit I have D, not at all. It's just no fun to focus the attention on yourself meeting people for the first time.

Guests kept coming and the party got started. We were having a good time and a pleasant night. Every now and then, I would take a glance at my Dexcom G4, to see how the readings were and I was fine. I decided not to have any alcohol, not only for the reason I'm the driver when we go out, but also because I don't want alcohol to influence my judgement when it comes to D. I was responsible for taking both of us home so I needed to A. stay sober and B. maintain good BG.

The host had marinated shrimp that were so juicy and big, that saliva nearly dripped down my mouth. He was nervous and entertaining at the same time. I expected food (carbs) to hit in pretty soon, so I went ahead and bolused for the meal we were going to have soon. Oopsie, my glucometer warned me for low batteries. Darn! no new batteries in my purse. No problem! DEB holds plenty of batteries, for my glucometer and my insulin pump! Bummer... DEB was at home, in my car. Hmhm.. I could have asked the host for batteries or I could've gone home to get some, but I decided not to. Again, I didn't want to draw any attention to myself. I wasn't used to not switching batteries immediately when the LOW alarm appeared on my screen, but I was sure I would make it through the night.

One of the guests was showing off his singing talent and the crowd was laughing in tears. I had a hard time joining in, for I saw my numbers creeping up. I had not had that many carbs yet, but still my numbers were going up. I decided to have another mealtime bolus and a correction bolus. Dexcom warned me of the highs several times. It was getting dark out there and the food kept coming. Maybe I should not have that jacket potato or crispy bread and just stick to the meat and veggies? I hate high numbers. Things have been different back then, but nowadays, I really don't want my numbers to skyrocket anymore. For a moment, I was jealous of the others, for not having to deal with this stupid disease. That feeling went away pretty fast, because at some point, we all have our flaws and obstacles in life and I didn't know about theirs, so I'd better hush and move on.

Let's have another glass of red wine! my husband cheered. The bottles kept coming and I must admit: the wine smelled wonderful and the 9 empty wine bottles said it all. I wanted to go home and change those batteries. So I asked hubby to call it a night, but he wanted another glass. Can't blame him... by that time we had moved from the dark outside to the cosy inside of the garden shed. People were still having a great time, holding their glasses of wine and telling stories by the dozen. Diabetes spoiled the moment. I just wanted to go home and correct those high numbers. I just wanted to go home....

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