I was Alice. I was naive, and curious. When I ventured towards the bedroom I had no idea what would be on the other side of the monitor. I sat comfortably on B's bedside and stroked his cheek gently. Oh how I wish I could know peace like that. What a wonderful adventure his life is at 10 years old. I envied his ablity to sleep so soundly. Growing curiouser and curiouser I brought the blood sugar monitor to his sweet hand and squeezed out the precious blood from his finger tip.
In an instant, I fell directly down the rabbit hole.
I was the rabbit. Chasing the number down, never stopping to think straight. Rushing. Worried. Insulin is what he needed. Insulin! I checked his blood sugar. 591. Progress! I'm going in the right direction! I bolused nimbly as that is what I do best! Rush rush rush. It's late! It's late! I check the clock. I'm going to be late for my sleep.
I was a guard. Just one more check in the deck of cards this game diabetes has to throw at me. I will do my duty and check! I will put off sleep to make sure he is safe. Diabetes is my master. I will obey. I dutifully check his sugar. 440. Bolus again. I know the protocol.
I was the Red Queen. I'd fallen asleep and my alarm was going off. I rage snooze three times. I'm angry. A queen shouldn't have to lose sleep! I throw my covers off in regal fashion and make my way defiantly to B's bedside. The meter says 380. I bolus and immediately I am met with heresy! "No delivery." How dare that pump defy me! I will bolus again, and this time it will LISTEN! But yet again it dares to mock me with its "No delivery!"
OFF WITH THE SET!
I burst to the supply closet and nimbly grab a new quick set. It is put on efficiently, as stabbing children with needles is second nature to me now. I'm numb from it all. A queen does what she has to do and doesn't look back. Hard decisions must be made. I rage bolus. I am wide awake so I take a Tylenol PM. I will sleep now. I am the queen here, I will not allow diabetes to take away my sleep!
I am the caterpillar. My sleeping pill has made me a bit woozy. My alarm goes off...I can't find the snooze. I'm high on sleeping agents and like a drunkard make my way to B. He is 373. Almost what he was an hour before. I dreamily bolus and add a bit for good measure. I don't remember how I got back to bed. But I remember being confident in my bolusing decision.
I am the Mad Hatter. I'm not all there. I grin vivaciously at the alarm clock. I clank down the hall, bumping doors open...I don't care who I wake. Come to the party! We are bolusing! Have some tea with me as we check B's sugar AGAIN! I live my life at this table, and it is where my crazy shines! I flip the overhead light on in the boys bedroom. So what if they wake up. I'm up! Let's do this thing! It takes me some time to figure the meter out. I put the strip in backwards and giggle a little bit. 277. FINALLY some progress. The pump says to give a bit more insulin. I grin and do as I am told. My brain is made up of wet noodles at this point. I shrug hoping I did the right thing, and fall face first back into bed. I'm not in my right mind. The next alarm will be 6:30am when I must wake up for the day. I take off my nurses hat and dive into a vivid drug induced dreamland.
It is over. Was it all a dream? B's blood sugar is 112. Did I imagine the crazy? From the corner of my eye I see the aftermath on B's dresser from the night before. Bloody test strips. Needles, a box of quick sets...insulin.
It was all real. The wonderland of craziness and real life merged together in my conscience and created my reality once more.
What character am I now?
I am all of them.
I am a D Mother.
I am me.
And most of all...I am tired.