About a month ago, I started turning a small piece of wasteland at the far end of my mum's garden into a vegetable patch.
Call me old - but I love growing things and people pay good money for a small plot of land like that - why not make the most of it!
Anyway, I was there a couple of weeks ago, digging away and plotting which vegetables would grow best in which spot, when suddenly my supernatural powers kicked in. My 'spidey senses' as a friend once described it. I felt hungry, but not in the 5pm pre-dinner way, but in that 'my sugars are dropping' way which no diabetic can mistake.
I whipped out my accu chek and tested my sugars.
Yep, 3.1 mmol, time for a break. I realised I had not packed an orange juice (*hangs head in diabetic shame*) and headed into my grandmother's apartment (they all live together, a little like the Walton's only without the funny names).
Now my grandmother is also a diabetic, but she is type 2, and although she watches what she eats and takes a tablet once a day, she would openly admit that diabetes has not really changed her life a great deal. She knows she has it, but as long as her yearly checks come back OK, she doesn't let it bother her. She doesn't test her sugars (at the doctors request), she still enjoys all the things she used to, and she doesn't have hypos or hypers.
The fact that I wear a pump and have to glug away on a carton of juice at such short notice, always seems to freak her out a bit. She doesn't really understand what a hypo is or how it feels. And I am quite happy for her not to know. I'd rather that than thinking of her shaking and panicking.
So I went to her and asked her for a cup of water with three teaspoons of sugar in it. She looked a little concerned, but tried her hardest not to let it show. She must have checked on me every 15 minutes after that, just to be sure.
But last week, I was coming to work on the garden again and Nanna was going to be out. She let me know where the key would be and she advised she would leave the garage open, so I could get to all the tools.
When I arrived, I busied myself getting all the pitchforks and shears out. But before I could make it to the garden, something caught my eye.
Call me old - but I love growing things and people pay good money for a small plot of land like that - why not make the most of it!
Anyway, I was there a couple of weeks ago, digging away and plotting which vegetables would grow best in which spot, when suddenly my supernatural powers kicked in. My 'spidey senses' as a friend once described it. I felt hungry, but not in the 5pm pre-dinner way, but in that 'my sugars are dropping' way which no diabetic can mistake.
I whipped out my accu chek and tested my sugars.
Yep, 3.1 mmol, time for a break. I realised I had not packed an orange juice (*hangs head in diabetic shame*) and headed into my grandmother's apartment (they all live together, a little like the Walton's only without the funny names).
Now my grandmother is also a diabetic, but she is type 2, and although she watches what she eats and takes a tablet once a day, she would openly admit that diabetes has not really changed her life a great deal. She knows she has it, but as long as her yearly checks come back OK, she doesn't let it bother her. She doesn't test her sugars (at the doctors request), she still enjoys all the things she used to, and she doesn't have hypos or hypers.
The fact that I wear a pump and have to glug away on a carton of juice at such short notice, always seems to freak her out a bit. She doesn't really understand what a hypo is or how it feels. And I am quite happy for her not to know. I'd rather that than thinking of her shaking and panicking.
So I went to her and asked her for a cup of water with three teaspoons of sugar in it. She looked a little concerned, but tried her hardest not to let it show. She must have checked on me every 15 minutes after that, just to be sure.
But last week, I was coming to work on the garden again and Nanna was going to be out. She let me know where the key would be and she advised she would leave the garage open, so I could get to all the tools.
When I arrived, I busied myself getting all the pitchforks and shears out. But before I could make it to the garden, something caught my eye.
Because my Nanna is possibly one of the sweetest people alive, she had left in the garage, what I can only describe as a 'Diabetic's survival kit'.
There was a mars bar, parked next to a diet coke, a bag of sugar and a cup of water.
She knew that she would be out and there isn't a spare key to the house. So before going about her day and doing what she needed to. She first made sure that in the event of any wayward sugars, her grand daughter would be safe.
Something that small, has stayed with me for weeks and still makes me smile when I think about it.
Thought that might make someone smile.
There was a mars bar, parked next to a diet coke, a bag of sugar and a cup of water.
She knew that she would be out and there isn't a spare key to the house. So before going about her day and doing what she needed to. She first made sure that in the event of any wayward sugars, her grand daughter would be safe.
Something that small, has stayed with me for weeks and still makes me smile when I think about it.
Thought that might make someone smile.
That's so sweet. I have always loved the concept of a survival kit for a diabetic (I think mine would have a carton of OJ, dextrose tablets and a couple of cereal bars in it).
ReplyDeleteAw thats lovely!I didnt realise Mrs Miners was your grandmother!! I loved her at school!
ReplyDeleteHey Louise,
ReplyDeleteYup, Nanna Miners is mine!
And she is a wonderful human being
x
read that twice it was so lovely - about a lovely lady written by a lovely lady, my mum, my niece, lucky me
ReplyDeleteJenXX