This weekend saw the wedding of two of my closest friends so Jamie and I hot-footed it to Birmnigham ready to celebrate. Thanks to being amongst friends when diabetes came up - which it inevitably does when the pump is produced from various pockets and nooks and crannies - the conversation started to flow and for once, the eyes didn't glaze over. People were actually interested.
While chatting about it one friend commented how difficult it must be to negotiate a day like this.
"Naaaaaah" I confidently stated, "It's nothing. As long as I test regularly and think about what I'm drinking, it's only the same as everyone else's night, really."
But there it is; I test regularly and think about what I'm drinking. For me, that's normal. Necessary. For everyone else, it's a hassle. So it got me thinking about how differently I really do act. Just how much extra does it take? Well I thought I would write it all down so you can see for yourself. So here it is:
3pm - The wedding is about to kick off so naturally (for me) a test is in order. 12mmol. Drat; a touch on the high side. Thanks to the drinking plans, I need to sort that out. A small correction (extra insulin) later and I'm back on track. It's just a diet coke for me, at the moment. The ceremony takes place. We smile, we well up, we hear readings from our own wedding, we remember.
4pm - The drinking has started, I still feel a little 'wonky', time for another test. 11.3mmol. Ok so I haven't gone down much, but I'm now drinking Gin and Tonic and I haven't gone up. I'll take that, in this instance. We continue to drink.
7pm - Time for the food - better test again. 9.2mmol. Fab, G and Ts obviously agree with diabetes, I better swap to doubles on hearing this excellent news. We continue to drink.
9pm - Dinner was delicious, but thanks to the guest next to me not wanting their cheesecake desert, I am two deserts up and wondering what that means for the blood sugars. 10.3mmol. Well, after 2 deserts, several double gins and a fair bit of emotion, I am pretty happy with 10. We continue to drink.
11pm - I don't test (I am far to busy dancing), but I have discovered that the hearts on that wedding cake are actually made of white chocolate. I eat them. Most of them. I continue to drink.
12.30am - Well, the lack of tests over the last 3 hours no doubt evidences the fact that I am trollied. I am dancing barefoot and can feel the shards of glass from broken drinks flying past my feet. My sugars are 12.2. I don’t even care. It's a final double for me, please Mr Bartender.
1.30am - I am back at the hotel. Despite being very drunk I wash my black, grub-covered feet which are all danced out, so Jamie can check them for damage from shards of glass. They are fine. We stop drinking.
At 2am the night is over. My blood sugars are 8mmol. I give myself a temporary 80% basal overnight, I chow down on a banana and I keel into bed.
So what's the verdict? Is it a pain? Does it change my night? My answer is this:
Yes, we have to make adjustments.
No, a diabetic dancing barefoot is not a good idea.
Yes, I have to blood test more regularly.
But I challenge you to find anyone there who had more fun than I did (bar the bride and groom, hopefully). Congratulations to my wonderful friends Emma and Matt. Your wedding was a gem.
Anna (still dancing barefoot and enjoying every beat)
No comments:
Post a Comment