Life happens in chapters, each with it's own mini story, and for Mike, a slightly different regime to maintain control over his sugar levels. I'll explain what I mean; the chapter entitled, 'I Know It's A Wreck But Let's Buy It Anyway,' is a good example.
Romantic evenings in our first house were spent driving away the neighbours, as we hacked off damp plaster, tore down falling ceilings, replaced rotten floorboards and best of all, demolished the strongest, sturdiest, brick built, steel reinforced air raid shelter, you're ever likely to find. We were young (naive), adventurous (foolhardy), and very cold unless we were bashing something for the first three years. Mike ate a lot of chocolate, so did I for that matter.
The surveyor had pointed out when we bought the house that the best thing about it was the air raid shelter, but sadly it completely filled our tiny garden and had to go. Just because a Victorian house has been standing for over a hundred years does not guarantee that it will continue to do so for another ten, ours was crumbling, but we loved it. A trusty Collin's DIY manual is an underrated wedding present, and by the time we decided that, even without the air raid shelter, the garden just wasn't big enough, the house was good to stand for another hundred years.
The point of this tale is that this is where the hammer comes in. It is hard to spot a hypo when you are wearing protective goggles, covered in plaster dust and hundred year old grime, and busy. Often the first sign would be shouting, DIY can be extremely frustrating, but if this is followed by a flying screwdriver or an extra dent in the floor from a hefty thwack with a lump hammer, it's probably a good idea to stop and test. Of course, at this point, the damage is already done, and an extra repair can be added to the bottom of the ever growing job sheet, which is why, early on in this chapter, I learnt to respond to shouting by confiscating the hammer and any other tools within easy reach.
Having said that, Mikes control was pretty good throughout those years. It's the intangible factors that throw us, like stress, which together with lack of sleep, did make 'The Baby Years', an effective training period in multi-tasking!
Jane
Showing posts with label the hammer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the hammer. Show all posts
Posted by Anonymous on Wednesday, 24 February 2010
Posted by Anonymous on Tuesday, 23 February 2010
W.A.G.s
You don't get training when you become the partner of a diabetic, you just get on with it. Parents of children with diabetes seem to have support available, but not us W.A.G.s. (Mike says I would need different shoes for that title.) Echoing the kids, I have never had a husband who wasn't diabetic, this is how it is, part of married life.
Cooking for a diabetic, I never found a problem, low fat, high fibre, no sugar, simple rules, in fact the only inconvenience is having to take the kitchen scales on holiday. Dealing with the hypo's, that's the tricky bit. I think I have it relatively easy, Mike is a relaxed, gentle soul and even with extremely low blood sugar, does not become aggressive; stubborn, but not aggressive.
Recognising low blood sugar:
You look pale - I'll test - low.
Hungry - test - low.
Words swim on the page - low;
Sweating, eyes glazed over - low.
Slight paranoia, things just don't seem to be going right, that can be quite hard to identify, but mostly there are obvious, early signs, and if Mike doesn't spot it, I will. Falling asleep sitting up is a good one, talking utter nonsense is entertaining and easy to spot provided you're actually listening! Personality changes are sometimes tricky to spot, but if I suggest to Mike to test his glucose levels, he generally will, and then sorts it out himself. It only becomes an emotional roller coaster when Mike's levels drop very quickly or for some reason we just haven't spotted it. Then the fight starts. With us, the battle is psychological, a battle of words, Mike's main word being "No." I have to be patient and persuasive, and I remember how hard that was in the early years, patient and persuasive is a lot to ask when the third 'P', Panic, sets in. There was some shouting, a lot of frustration, a fair bit of begging; none of which Mike could remember anything about afterwards. The experience seemed to be mine and mine alone. I am incredibly grateful to my wonderfully supportive friends and my supremely caring, loving sister, who have always been there for me to talk to and for us as a family to lean on, and on occasion, to distract the children while I force feed their father.
It has become easier with experience, and we will deal with the changes that come with age as they happen, together.
And I still haven't explained about the hammer...
Jane
Cooking for a diabetic, I never found a problem, low fat, high fibre, no sugar, simple rules, in fact the only inconvenience is having to take the kitchen scales on holiday. Dealing with the hypo's, that's the tricky bit. I think I have it relatively easy, Mike is a relaxed, gentle soul and even with extremely low blood sugar, does not become aggressive; stubborn, but not aggressive.
Recognising low blood sugar:
You look pale - I'll test - low.
Hungry - test - low.
Words swim on the page - low;
Sweating, eyes glazed over - low.
Slight paranoia, things just don't seem to be going right, that can be quite hard to identify, but mostly there are obvious, early signs, and if Mike doesn't spot it, I will. Falling asleep sitting up is a good one, talking utter nonsense is entertaining and easy to spot provided you're actually listening! Personality changes are sometimes tricky to spot, but if I suggest to Mike to test his glucose levels, he generally will, and then sorts it out himself. It only becomes an emotional roller coaster when Mike's levels drop very quickly or for some reason we just haven't spotted it. Then the fight starts. With us, the battle is psychological, a battle of words, Mike's main word being "No." I have to be patient and persuasive, and I remember how hard that was in the early years, patient and persuasive is a lot to ask when the third 'P', Panic, sets in. There was some shouting, a lot of frustration, a fair bit of begging; none of which Mike could remember anything about afterwards. The experience seemed to be mine and mine alone. I am incredibly grateful to my wonderfully supportive friends and my supremely caring, loving sister, who have always been there for me to talk to and for us as a family to lean on, and on occasion, to distract the children while I force feed their father.
It has become easier with experience, and we will deal with the changes that come with age as they happen, together.
And I still haven't explained about the hammer...
Jane
Posted by Anonymous on Wednesday, 17 February 2010
And a note from the wife...
It isn't unusual for Mike to need some sugar first thing in the morning, and it isn't unusual for me to take a few minutes to realise, you see, Mike isn't the sharpest tack in the packet first thing.
We do wonder whether this is why he is low more often than he'd like in the mornings. Apparently glucose levels rise as you wake up, Mike is much less likely to have low blood sugar when he wakes up naturally, but unfortunately won't wake up until 9.30 or 10.00 unless I wake him, so at least 6 out of 7 days, he is woken up earlier than his body would like.
Anyway, where was I, oh yes, not the sharpest tack. We get little more than "Ug." out of Mike before 10am.
Unless he's very low, Mike, of course, deals with his sugar levels himself. To put it into perspective, I only need to intervene maybe 4 or 5 times a year, and on those occasions, usually gentle encouragement to eat or drink enough sugar is all that is needed. Once every 3 or 4 years, there's a slightly scarier moment.
On this occasion, Mike seemed lucid enough to sort himself out, but had a sharp pain in his head and felt nauseous, which made it hard to swallow anything. He couldn't eat breakfast; unheard of. As he's already mentioned, the weirdest thing was his speech. He lost words. Blood sugar up, but head still hurting he went back to bed. Two hours later, blood sugar fine, he still had not found those words. I thought - minor stroke.
As I drove Mike to casualty, I checked our bank balance in my head. I worked out that although we're self employed, we'd be fine to last at least six months if it took that long to recover. I thought, if it is a stroke, I'm sitting next to a time bomb. I thought, how on earth will I tell his Mum. I thought, thank God the kids are away. I thought, Mike don't leave me yet.
The Doctor was able to reassure us that it wasn't a stroke, but he wasn't able to explain why it had happened or tell us how to prevent it happening again. We have never sought support with dealing with Mike's diabetes, and the realisation that after 20 years of diabetes, after 15 years of marriage, we knew more about it than the Doctor, made us feel quite alone.
Where do we go from here?
Well, we're not alone. Thousands of people are in our position, so the best thing to do is speak to them.
I'd like to share some of the hilarious and stressful complications that occur when combining toddlers, no sleep, a diabetic husband and an Asda trolley, for the benefit of anyone about to embark on the adventure of parenthood. Our daughters, now 12 and 10, would like to join in and share their thoughts on 'life when Daddy goes a little doolally'. I can feel a list of wifely do's and don'ts coming on, like 'when you can see he's low, confiscate the hammer'. Maybe that needs a little more explaining. Watch this space.
Jane
We do wonder whether this is why he is low more often than he'd like in the mornings. Apparently glucose levels rise as you wake up, Mike is much less likely to have low blood sugar when he wakes up naturally, but unfortunately won't wake up until 9.30 or 10.00 unless I wake him, so at least 6 out of 7 days, he is woken up earlier than his body would like.
Anyway, where was I, oh yes, not the sharpest tack. We get little more than "Ug." out of Mike before 10am.
Unless he's very low, Mike, of course, deals with his sugar levels himself. To put it into perspective, I only need to intervene maybe 4 or 5 times a year, and on those occasions, usually gentle encouragement to eat or drink enough sugar is all that is needed. Once every 3 or 4 years, there's a slightly scarier moment.
On this occasion, Mike seemed lucid enough to sort himself out, but had a sharp pain in his head and felt nauseous, which made it hard to swallow anything. He couldn't eat breakfast; unheard of. As he's already mentioned, the weirdest thing was his speech. He lost words. Blood sugar up, but head still hurting he went back to bed. Two hours later, blood sugar fine, he still had not found those words. I thought - minor stroke.
As I drove Mike to casualty, I checked our bank balance in my head. I worked out that although we're self employed, we'd be fine to last at least six months if it took that long to recover. I thought, if it is a stroke, I'm sitting next to a time bomb. I thought, how on earth will I tell his Mum. I thought, thank God the kids are away. I thought, Mike don't leave me yet.
The Doctor was able to reassure us that it wasn't a stroke, but he wasn't able to explain why it had happened or tell us how to prevent it happening again. We have never sought support with dealing with Mike's diabetes, and the realisation that after 20 years of diabetes, after 15 years of marriage, we knew more about it than the Doctor, made us feel quite alone.
Where do we go from here?
Well, we're not alone. Thousands of people are in our position, so the best thing to do is speak to them.
I'd like to share some of the hilarious and stressful complications that occur when combining toddlers, no sleep, a diabetic husband and an Asda trolley, for the benefit of anyone about to embark on the adventure of parenthood. Our daughters, now 12 and 10, would like to join in and share their thoughts on 'life when Daddy goes a little doolally'. I can feel a list of wifely do's and don'ts coming on, like 'when you can see he's low, confiscate the hammer'. Maybe that needs a little more explaining. Watch this space.
Jane
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