This morning we had a 1.7. Gee what a bad way to start the day, me running to the kitchen half asleep, clothes hanging off, hair sticking up, rancid sleep breath - to get some glucose syrup to bring up the atrocious low number. It was a totally symptomless hypo, yet we've called an ambulance on a 3.7. Diabetes makes rules go out the window.
(To convert mmol/l to mg/dL so they make more sense multiply by 18!)
Somehow the other kids want to tell me things while Im getting Reuben back to a decent number.
Mum Ive got banking today....
Mum I had cheerios before you got up and I poured the milk myself....
Mum you know the guy on guitar hero has his hair done just like mine...
Mum I want a hot milo...
Mum can James come over for a playdate...
Mum I want to wear my pink sandals. Can you put them on for me...
At least they seem oblivious to my panic. ( I get a shot of adrenaline that could be of use to me on Sunday for my 5km run Ive entered into.)
Once hes a little more lucid I give him a 5g chuppa chup lollipop to suck on so I can finish getting my eldest ready for school. I follow that with his morning warm milk drink. Within 15 minutes hes back at 9.8.
After coming home from 'drop off' my daughter informs me shes going to be a big helper while I do the housework. Omg I have to help myself from praying out loud that she might get distracted and watch playhouse Disney instead. (Forgive me Lord, Im on my third child Im exhausted with them helping me do chores...I no longer have the patience of a saint, thats why Ive employed FOXTEL cable TV to babysit my kids so I can do jobs!)
She still wants to help. Her eyes are sparkling blue full of life (or mischeif) and she has blonde curls that literally have a life of their own that rival Shirley Temple's. She is independent and headstrong. I have no idea where she got that from!
The pep talk to myself goes a little like this; Jules, shes only little once. One day just a few short years from now she will be busy with fashion and music and boys and not want to help her dear old Mum dust the picture frames. Buck up! Deep breathe.
First up dishwasher. Shes half climbing into the dishwasher, things are randomly tossed in. Jo grabs a few dishwashing tablets and sticks them into the slot, trying to close the flap on contents that will fit when pigs fly. I smile and thank her sweetly. Awesome job darling, hi 5!
Making beds. Shes laying in them playing parachutes. Okay move away calmly, surely another job can be attempted more successfully.
Vacuuming. Shes deteremined in her 3 year old way to vacuum the whole house by scrubbing the nozzle over the same spot repeatedly for 15 minutes. Way to go Jo!
Im really doing ok.
Spray and wipe surfaces. She loves the spray and not the wipe bit. She proceeds to spray everything that I said NOT to spray. After 5 minutes of this and trying to teach her that my suede couch and this spray dont really mix, I THANK her for her help and redirect her to the next job.
I have gritted teeth but still doing ok. No smoke coming from my ears or nostrils yet!
I notice shes wasted the surface spray I would use over a week in a few short moments. Incidentally, Reubs always slips over in her random spray and wipe spots before I can find them. He himself is involved in pulling my tupperware cupboard and bottom doo-dad thingy-majig draw apart.
Good job JoJo, would you like morning tea, sweetie? Perhaps we could read "The Berenstein Bears and the Missing Dinosaur Bone?". By this point I really need a coffee and test Reuben's blood sugar again.
(Yay pat myself on the back I didnt freak out or yell !)
Time taken : 1 hour. Time taken re-doing above jobs? 1 hour.
Patience isnt my virtue - maybe Diabetes will teach me a thing or two.