A picture heavy set of clues as to what I've been up to.
Can you guess?
Two nights away in a VW camper. Just two nights. No problem, right?
BUT:
at the campsite there was no, or at best patchy, phone coverage
I was alone with my boy, alone with the weight of that responsibility we all feel so acutely
I was over an hour from home
the weather forecast wasn't great
*************************
And yet, I went for it.
And we both survived.
And I feel so glad I pushed myself to do this.
A couple of mild hypos but they were soon zapped with juice boxes and sleeping so closely with Frank helped me feel more confident.
******************
Best moment: Frank walking to the shower block the first morning and saying : "Mama, kiss" and kissing me over and over and over again.
He loves camping out in the van.
Worst moment, and this moment nearly stole the whole bloody thing from me: A hypo coinciding with falling asleep on the A12 on the way home with me unable to stop in speeding traffic and shouting at him that I'd get the juice in two minutes; him falling asleep with his mouth open (you know, really dramatic imagery of a DEAD person) and me thinking "You bastard, diabetes, you will not have my boy".
Juice given and he slept an hour before waking in a great mood and eating a big dinner.
I needed a lie down in a dark room.
*********************
I accept this condition as the uninvited bad, and stinky to boot, fairy at the party but I hate the super-size-me additions.
When they fall asleep in the car none of us thinks: "Oh, great, I can stop for a while and read" or "I can listen to my music now rather than Wind in the Willows for the millionth time".
No, we have to think: "OK, is he low or crashing? Should I pull over now or keep driving? Is he pale? Was that a twitch? Is he about to fit? Oh, bugger, I haven't actually been looking ahead for two miles now ...
Oh, my friends, and on it goes ...
BUT:
at the campsite there was no, or at best patchy, phone coverage
I was alone with my boy, alone with the weight of that responsibility we all feel so acutely
I was over an hour from home
the weather forecast wasn't great
*************************
And yet, I went for it.
And we both survived.
And I feel so glad I pushed myself to do this.
A couple of mild hypos but they were soon zapped with juice boxes and sleeping so closely with Frank helped me feel more confident.
******************
Best moment: Frank walking to the shower block the first morning and saying : "Mama, kiss" and kissing me over and over and over again.
He loves camping out in the van.
Worst moment, and this moment nearly stole the whole bloody thing from me: A hypo coinciding with falling asleep on the A12 on the way home with me unable to stop in speeding traffic and shouting at him that I'd get the juice in two minutes; him falling asleep with his mouth open (you know, really dramatic imagery of a DEAD person) and me thinking "You bastard, diabetes, you will not have my boy".
Juice given and he slept an hour before waking in a great mood and eating a big dinner.
I needed a lie down in a dark room.
*********************
I accept this condition as the uninvited bad, and stinky to boot, fairy at the party but I hate the super-size-me additions.
When they fall asleep in the car none of us thinks: "Oh, great, I can stop for a while and read" or "I can listen to my music now rather than Wind in the Willows for the millionth time".
No, we have to think: "OK, is he low or crashing? Should I pull over now or keep driving? Is he pale? Was that a twitch? Is he about to fit? Oh, bugger, I haven't actually been looking ahead for two miles now ...
Oh, my friends, and on it goes ...
We had a great time.
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