Dear Santa...

I know that you are extremely busy at this time of year, what with it almost being time for you to set off with all those present in tow, weighing down your sled and making your Reindeer huff and puff. How you manage it all in one night has always been beyond me. With 6 billion homes to visit, I imagine you aren’t really too keen on later entries on the request front.

I know that at this time of year it becomes pretty commonplace for everyone to start reeling off their Christmas wishes as if you have all the time in the world. I know you have a sled to oil, a workforce to motivate and presents to wrap. I know you have reindeer to exercise and maps to plot. I bet there are a few more people in the world than last year, so I expect you are mighty busy.

I know that people often contact you about things which are a little out of your remit, like Jamie, who I know has already sent his letter to you asking for a Porsche. Any colour but yellow, as I am frequently reminded. One of these days you could slip a Matchbox version into his stocking, just to keep him quiet.

I know that children are the most important people at Christmas, and that you have to get busy acquiring all those snazzy new electronic toys. I remember the Buzz Lightyear saga, back in the 90s, when parents trampled one another to get the figurines in Toys’r’Us because apparently you had run out. I was too old to care for it really, already in my teens and more concerned with make up, shoes and the Backstreet Boys (yes, I know, but I was 13!), but I still remember the news, and remember thinking how crazy it was that anyone could want something that much. I’m not sure what it is this year, but I bet it is a damn sight more technical than Buzz was!

The thing is, what I want won’t take much to wrap. It doesn’t need bows or pretty paper. I don’t want anything more than the next person, in fact, it is a lot less than a Porsche! Mine won’t breed jealousy, envy or greed. Mine is simple, but it would make my year.

Dear Santa,

I, would like a day off.

Today I woke up high again. I left my breakfast because I wanted to see my sugars come down.

I waited a long time.

Today I did 9 blood tests, most of which were out of range.

Today, I had my third eye appointment of the year, where the drops they put in my eyes make them sting, lose my sight and dappled red.

Today I had every sugar from 6-15.

Today, I felt tired because there is no such thing as a day off.

All I want Santa, is to be able to wake up, brush my matt of a hair into some sort of style, eat my breakfast and get on with my day.

All I want Santa, is to be able to eat a meal - any meal – without first testing my sugars, doing around 3 calculations and taking yet more insulin. Without having to test them again two hours later, no doubt disappointed with what I see.

I would love not to have to worry today. Not to worry about the blood sugars. Not to worry about what cost that mince pie will have, both today and in ten years.

Not to worry full stop.

If I could have one wish from Santa, it would be this. One day off.

Are you listening, and did you get my letter?