The snow was deep and the air was crisp with a March chill, but I felt none of that. I was taking the new ATV out for a ride; it was blue and shiny with big nubby tires that sent this country girl's heart a-thumping. I zoomed past pine trees with an ecstatically free dog racing at my side, shifted into a lower gear when the snow hit up to my calves, woman against the elements, thrilled with adrenaline. Though I could've gone for hours, I turned the handlebars over to my mom and stood on an icy dirt road, waiting for my turn to come around again.
A few minutes later she parked, dismounted and started to walk toward me. My arms flew up in a quick wave as, behind her, the running quad began to drive away without her.
"MOM!" I yelled, "CATCH IT!" And I ran, and ran, and ran and watched as my shiny new toy drove off into the great white unknown as though possessed by some crazy cartoon episode. My hands started to shake and my legs got that buttery feeling, as though they were stiff strands of spaghetti cooking in boiling water.
BEEPBeep beep! from my pump stopped me in my Sorel-clad boots. A thought flitted through my head, too quick to catch and easily ignored as I unhooked the box from beneath my down-filled parka and looked at the screen. A quick press of the ESC button and 3.2 mmol came up backlit by green, compliments of the transmitter currently seated in my thigh. One little arrow pointing down next to that number told me that it was time for some glucose tablets.
I don't remember pulling them out of a pocket or even chewing until the powdery substance melted away in my mouth. I do remember the taste, that grape flavour that doesn't really taste like grapes and sometimes makes me nauseous. But I was running again; I'd spotted blue through the trees and I was off to rope me a live quad!
WEEEEOOOOOOO-WEEEEEEOOOOO-WEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOO-WEEEEEEEEOOOOOOO!
My Sorel's stopped pumping again, I cleared the message on the screen of the pump to stop the shrill noise of the siren and this time I glared at the offending interrupter on my hip when it showed a rapidly declining BG level. Couldn't it see that I was busy here??? Who's stupid idea had it been to get this annoying CGMS anyway?! No sooner had I thought this than the siren started up again, blaring away to its content, and this time impervious to my attempts to turn it off.
It just wouldn't stop!
And that thought squeezed it's way into the crevices of my brain, this time deep enough to make me pause.
I said it aloud to myself. "This isn't right" My brain, slow as it was from lack of energy, ran sluggishly back over previous events, my will the only thing keeping it from flitting off into rambles. Snow - not cold. Shaky and foggy after eating glucose tablets (I ate them, right? I'm not imagining that grape-y taste?). ATV driving all by itself, no thumb on the throttle.
Wait. A. Second.
I don't own a quad. Quads don't drive themselves. How come it's not cold out here??? Why are my hands still shaking like a johnsing alcoholic? AND WHY WON'T THIS STUPID SIREN STOP BLARING IN MY EAR?????
A light bulb actually went on over my head. Seriously, I looked up at it before saying to myself, "OK Tiffany, it's time to wake up." (It was actually pretty cool to see a light bulb above my own head - even if it did look like a cartoon bulb, drawn light-lines and all) And with a snap of my fingers, I jerked into the body that lay in my bed, eyes open. Reaching with one hand for the pump that continued to whine it's discontent with my ignorance, while the other delved into the drawer of the table beside me, shaking as it searched desperately for a tube of grape glucose tablets. So tired; my eyes wanted to close, to just surrender, to ignore the anxiety, the shakiness and the weakness and just slide back into sleep and dream of riding a non-existent quad. But, as we always do, I forced myself to ignore, instead, the will of my body and choke down a half-dozen glucose tablets. So that I would wake again from another dream without the frantic need for sugar and the panicked loss of control.
And even though I'll never know for sure if the taste of grape in my mouth was real as I stood in that field of snow, or if it was just the product of my imagination reacting automatically to a situation that is as normal as breathing.
But I do know that I always wake up. Whether it's because of my own awareness or the little oval transmitter stuck to my thigh - or a combination of the two - I will always wake up.
The snow was deep and the air was crisp with a March chill, but I felt none of that. I was taking the new ATV out for a ride; it was blue and shiny with big nubby tires that sent this country girl's heart a-thumping. I zoomed past pine trees with an ecstatically free dog racing at my side, shifted into a lower gear when the snow hit up to my calves, woman against the elements, thrilled with adrenaline. Though I could've gone for hours, I turned the handlebars over to my mom and stood on an icy dirt road, waiting for my turn to come around again.
A few minutes later she parked, dismounted and started to walk toward me. My arms flew up in a quick wave as, behind her, the running quad began to drive away without her.
"MOM!" I yelled, "CATCH IT!" And I ran, and ran, and ran and watched as my shiny new toy drove off into the great white unknown as though possessed by some crazy cartoon episode. My hands started to shake and my legs got that buttery feeling, as though they were stiff strands of spaghetti cooking in boiling water.
BEEPBeep beep! from my pump stopped me in my Sorel-clad boots. A thought flitted through my head, too quick to catch and easily ignored as I unhooked the box from beneath my down-filled parka and looked at the screen. A quick press of the ESC button and 3.2 mmol came up backlit by green, compliments of the transmitter currently seated in my thigh. One little arrow pointing down next to that number told me that it was time for some glucose tablets.
I don't remember pulling them out of a pocket or even chewing until the powdery substance melted away in my mouth. I do remember the taste, that grape flavour that doesn't really taste like grapes and sometimes makes me nauseous. But I was running again; I'd spotted blue through the trees and I was off to rope me a live quad!
WEEEEOOOOOOO-WEEEEEEOOOOO-WEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOO-WEEEEEEEEOOOOOOO!
My Sorel's stopped pumping again, I cleared the message on the screen of the pump to stop the shrill noise of the siren and this time I glared at the offending interrupter on my hip when it showed a rapidly declining BG level. Couldn't it see that I was busy here??? Who's stupid idea had it been to get this annoying CGMS anyway?! No sooner had I thought this than the siren started up again, blaring away to its content, and this time impervious to my attempts to turn it off.
It just wouldn't stop!
And that thought squeezed it's way into the crevices of my brain, this time deep enough to make me pause.
I said it aloud to myself. "This isn't right" My brain, slow as it was from lack of energy, ran sluggishly back over previous events, my will the only thing keeping it from flitting off into rambles. Snow - not cold. Shaky and foggy after eating glucose tablets (I ate them, right? I'm not imagining that grape-y taste?). ATV driving all by itself, no thumb on the throttle.
Wait. A. Second.
I don't own a quad. Quads don't drive themselves. How come it's not cold out here??? Why are my hands still shaking like a johnsing alcoholic? AND WHY WON'T THIS STUPID SIREN STOP BLARING IN MY EAR?????
A light bulb actually went on over my head. Seriously, I looked up at it before saying to myself, "OK Tiffany, it's time to wake up." (It was actually pretty cool to see a light bulb above my own head - even if it did look like a cartoon bulb, drawn light-lines and all) And with a snap of my fingers, I jerked into the body that lay in my bed, eyes open. Reaching with one hand for the pump that continued to whine it's discontent with my ignorance, while the other delved into the drawer of the table beside me, shaking as it searched desperately for a tube of grape glucose tablets. So tired; my eyes wanted to close, to just surrender, to ignore the anxiety, the shakiness and the weakness and just slide back into sleep and dream of riding a non-existent quad. But, as we always do, I forced myself to ignore, instead, the will of my body and choke down a half-dozen glucose tablets. So that I would wake again from another dream without the frantic need for sugar and the panicked loss of control.
And even though I'll never know for sure if the taste of grape in my mouth was real as I stood in that field of snow, or if it was just the product of my imagination reacting automatically to a situation that is as normal as breathing.
But I do know that I always wake up. Whether it's because of my own awareness or the little oval transmitter stuck to my thigh - or a combination of the two - I will always wake up.