I've realized that diabetes has taught me how to compartmentalize things in my mind. I don't know if that's a good thing or not, but it's what I do now. If Emma has a low blood sugar, like tonight for example...for some reason I am able to step by step do what needs to be done to get it back up to a safe number again. Sure my heart is pounding in my throat, my my hands are shaking, and I am freezing and sweating all at the same time because of the fear and pure panic that comes with a life threatening situation like that. But I am able to steady my hands, guide the straw on the juicebox to her lips and wait as she slurps away in her half awake half asleep state. I am able to hold that straw there until she is finished. I am able to throw the empty box away, sit down, and stare at the clock as I am trapped in my 15 minute sentence of living hell while I wait for the most precious medicine in our house that is juice to do it's job...bring her blood sugar back up...fix it...so she isn't in danger anymore. I'm stuck there...frozen in place...waiting. I am able to hold off that terror and check her once the 15 minutes is up to make sure she is ok now.
Once it is all said and done, I begin to compartmentalize my crazy thoughts. She didn't wake up. She was laying there in her bed sleeping peacefully. Yes it was a "normal" time to check her anyway, but what if I had been on the phone with my Mom and waited those few extra minutes to check her like I have done a few times in the past. What if I had fallen asleep on the couch and missed the check by hours? Would she have dropped so low that she would have had a seizure or even died in her sleep while I was oblivious to it all asleep myself on the couch downstairs? Would she have awoken eventually after dropping even further and called for me to help and I wouldn't have heard her because I was asleep? Would she have attempted to get up and out of bed herself and drag herself downstairs seeking juice or seeking me? Or would she have continued to lie there calling my name, wondering why I wasn't coming to save her? I take all of those questions and "what ifs" and compartmentalize them....I gather them up and store them away in the deepest darkest recesses of my mind...in that corner where I tend to shove things that are just a little too scary or too real or too possible because I just can't accept the reality of them.
I compartmentalize the thoughts of how in the world I will be able to trust that she will awaken from her lows when she is grown and living in her own house. How will I ever be able to let her go? How will I ever be able to trust that she can do it on her own? How can I just let go and be confident that she will set her alarm and wake up to check herself in the middle of the night? What if she never gets to a point where she will awaken if she is low? What if this is how it will be for the rest of her life or until a cure is found? How will I force myself to be ok with that once she is out of my reach? I take those thoughts and after shedding a few tears for them, I compartmentalize them and try to push them from my mind altogether...because I just can't go there yet...I just can't do it...I can't accept it or even fathom how it will be in the future.
Diabetes has taught me ways of how to cope I suppose...how to find some semblance of normalcy in this crazed life we live.