I woke up the other morning to my wife trying to poke me in the finger.  That’s got to be the first time she has tried to poke you.  Apparently, my blood sugar was a little low. Yeah.  I would call that low.  I didn’t really know what she was doing.  The only part I was really understanding was the part where she was holding my finger with the intent to make me bleed. It would have helped if there was a shred of sugar left in his brain. So I started pulling my fingers away, one at a time. That made her happy. Eventually, Mamma was able to fight the blood out of me and she found a beautiful number 32 on  my meter.  The next thing I know, Mamma is trying to feed me pineapple juice. That was funny. That was not funny.  I couldn’t remember how to swallow. I’m going to leave that one alone. We fought over who was going to hold the glass. He won that fight. Of all the fights to win. The pineapple juice started coming out my nose, and I started trying to argue with her while my mouth was still full of pineapple juice.  Should have swallowed.  At which point, she started yelling at me.  She wanted me to get up and eat something.

This is the part where I tell you that it is not only the person with diabetes that is affected by diabetes.  I don’t always notice how it affects my family, but it really does. My wife was worried about me. I was too stupid to know it. All I knew is my wife was yelling at me.  That was really all I knew.  I couldn’t figure out how to stand up.  That pissed her off.  Yeah it did.  But he made up for it by falling down the stairs.  Stairs are hard when you have no sugar.  Everything is harder without sugar.  When I finally reached downstairs, I began walking in circles.  It is a very common circle for me when I am low.  I start in the kitchen because that is where the food is, but then I remember that I need a bowl to put my cereal in.  The bowls are in the dinning room.  So he goes to the dinning room.  And I can never remember why I am there so I just keep going in the direction I was already heading until I remember that I am supposed to eat something and then I am back in the kitchen.  Eventually, I noticed that my laptop was sitting in the place where my bowl was going to  have to be in order to put cereal in it.  I picked it up and started to put it away in the living room.

The night before, I had brought home a stack of greeting cards that The Time Keeper had given the girls.  Tata, seeing me walk into the living room, asks me what the greeting card she is holding says.  Mamma then walks down the stairs and sees me holding my laptop and reading to Tata. That’s not what she told him to do.  She started yelling at me to get something to eat again.  My response was, “Do I look dead to you.”  Ha! Brilliant!  Yeah.  Not my best line.  I put the computer down.  Finally managed to get a bowl and cereal together with milk and started eating.  The pineapple juice finally started to kick in as well.  I know it did because I was able to think while I was eating my cereal.  Mamma didn’t speak to me again before I rushed out the door to work.  It may have been the last thing he said. Yeah.

On a more serious note.  Ah, come on!  It is very difficult, when the blood sugar is that low, to have any logical thought at all, but I realize that is is also very difficult on the woman trying to save me from a coma.  Everything is much funnier later.  In fact, we had a good laugh telling that story, both to each other as we explained our actions later and to some good friends of ours.  Looking back it was pretty funny from an outside perspective. Yeah it was.  But neither of us were laughing at the time.  Trust me.  I was laughing.  Us being my wife and I; not the worthless organ that if it had been doing its job would have prevented the whole situation all together.  Ouch.