Sunday, August 9th began like every normal day. I awoke and made a cup of coffee, surfed the net a bit and then at about 8:30 went back into the bedroom to check on Alex. She had been running slightly low overnight, which I attributed to a long day of swimming on Saturday. Not a big problem, just a matter of being sure some fast-acting glucose is on hand to prop her up a bit. Alex can gobble glucose tabs in her sleep.
The morning was uneventful, but maybe the D-demon was just still sleeping. I don’t know. By lunch time, though, it was obvious the D-demon was surfacing. Out of nowhere and for no good reason, there was screaming. Then fighting. And throwing things. I grabbed the D-demon by the arm and banished her to the bedroom. I tried begging and reasoning and holy water, but nothing worked. The D-demon was as evil as ever…
Me: “You could have hurt your brother by throwing that at him.”
D-Demon: “That’s sweet for him.” (Translation: Tough shit.)
Me: “Get in your room and stay there! Don’t come out till you’re normal!”
Then I slammed the bedroom door, wedged a crucifix through the door handle and sat down and prayed. Okay, I didn’t pray, but I was mumbling under my breath. Then I went back to my laptop and got back to the editing work I had been doing before I was so rudely interrupted.
I kept meaning to get up and check on the D-demon. But 5 minutes stretched to 10 and 10 minutes stretched to 20. And before you knew it an hour had passed. And it was quiet in there. Too quiet.
I opened the bedroom door, and immediately heard a low monotone voice repeating… I’m low, I’m low, I’m low. It was my Alex, not the D-demon, lying face down on the bed in only her underpants. My daughter was low and she knew it and she was scared. I grabbed the meter and squeezed out a drop of blood. I saw a number that I never hope to see ever again in her life – 1.0. That’s a frightening – terrifying – heart-stopping number.
I rushed into Mike’s room to grab his stash of Lucozade (I’d address this food hoarding issue with him later, but now, I’ve got another emergency to deal with) and raced back forcing her to drink. Fourteen minutes later, she’d only gotten up to 3.5. I tried more Lucozade and waited another few minutes. Whew. Finally, she’s at 9.2. High. Now we’re in the comfort zone. I made her some bread with butter and she ate it nicely.
Once my blood pressure was back to normal, I apologized to her. I told her that I never should have allowed her to go to bed without checking her first. The D-demon cannot have that kind of control over either of us. Even if I would have had to hold her down for a blood drop, I should have done it. You see, the D-demon is a tricky devil – used to only come when her blood sugar was high. No more. Now, the D-demon surfaces whenever it wants.
With perfect 20-20 hindsight, I realize that I did a couple of things wrong. I gave Alex her insulin for lunch and cookies, except that she didn’t eat the cookies ‘cause she didn’t like the cookies. Then I forgot to give her a replacement food for the cookies. Combined with the lows from yesterday’s exercise and my anger/frustration with the D-demon – well, it was a disaster of Hindenberg proportions.
As I said, I apologized to her. And you know what, Alex wouldn’t accept it! Nope, I tried and tried to take the blame for her low and she would have none of it. She told me that it was all her fault. Those are some very mature words coming from an 8-year old who has to accept much more responsibility than she should have to.
Now, I feel really guilty. And really proud.
