Memories

I’ve been thinking about Penny’s post a while ago titled Because I have to. It made me think about my mom, and my experience with those kinds of lows. I’ve lain in my mom’s lap while she stroked my head willing me to feel better. There were times I cried. There were times I would fall back asleep. I have faint memories of a time I couldn’t communicate because of a bad low. My parents filled in the details. I woke up and walked downstairs. I didn’t say anything, just sat down and started watching TV. I faintly remember my mom shaking my shoulders trying to get me to concentrate and tell her where my meter was. The next thing I remember I was drinking juice and I had a blood stain on my finger. That incident really shook me because I didn’t have any memory of walking downstairs, and my mom checked my blood sugar. At that point my mom hadn’t checked me in years. I knew I was low, but I couldn't tell the person who wanted to help me most. I remember lots of lows, sitting in the kitchen drinking a small glass of apple juice and a graham cracker. Always the same snack and always with my mom. She would turn on the living room light so the light wouldn’t wake up too much. Even now, the first thing I use to treat a low are those little glasses of apple juice. Even now that I treat lows by myself, when I go downstairs to the kitchen to treat I know she is upstairs waiting for me to return. Sometimes she comes down to check on me, and sometimes she’ll ask me if I’m ok when she hears me coming back up the stairs. No matter what, she’ll ask me the next morning if I had a rough night. I really hated those nighttime lows, and still do, but I treasure the memories of her taking care of me. Thanks Mom.