Lost spectacles – by Andy Yates

Andy-yates-150-x150The boys had been awake since 5am, my wife Katie, laid up in bed sick, the bosses were away and I was running the show; a busy day lay ahead no doubt, but nothing I had not dealt with before.

A good days’ work ensued. I packed up and shoved everything into my bag and set off on foot homeward bound, ah, milk and bread from the shop, a little detour but one which may or may not have led me down two incredibly different paths.

Had I not stopped off at the shop, I probably would have made it home, feeling a little low but been in safe hands with Katie at home. I would have tested, seen it was dropping and taken measures to rectify the situation.

I purchased the milk and bread, headed off down the snicket thinking I’m going low, I grabbed some Lucozade and a Mars bar I think, the rest is………….as follows…

Have you ever come round to find yourself sat on a curb side being stared at by a teenager and a first response ambulance lady? I looked down and saw the array of multi-coloured previously digested food stuffs splayed across my less than clean work shorts.

Disorientated, confused and apparently trying to convince some strangers that I was okay, I looked around and it was as if someone had put a filter on my eyes where everyone and anything looked fairly hazy, almost as if I was in a film where there is a solemn moment captured for a few seconds and it fades darkness, to dramatic?

I believe the ambulance were there as well. I’d of course said that I was fine and just needed to get home and have some rest, I couldn’t see, or at this point, feel the gash on my head disguising the extent of my injury, I was swiftly taken off to Hull Royal Infirmary and told it was serious. Surely not, nothing can be that serious, diabetic or not. A fractured skull from the top of my head, down and round behind my right ear was the problem.

I was and still am dealing with my most significant injury to date rather well, I’d lost my glasses along the way which left me questioning what had actually happened. I’m not entirely sure if throwing your spectacles as a cry for help is the best option (I’ve since retraced my steps and they are definitely not in a bush, drain or tree.)

Being able to deal with the results of a hypo are just as important as being able to control your sugars, look after your eyes or putting the correct shoe on the correct foot, but I have to admit this one was a bit of a life changer.

Over the years I have bitten through my tongue, broken my back, and dislocated my shoulder (that didn’t have anything to do with three years at University……) and I am not saying this as a glamorous, “look at me, I’m invincible!” way, I mention it because these things have happened and it shapes who we are and in my case makes me realise how stupid/lucky I have been over time.

It seems every six to seven years a medical ailment strikes which makes me change course in my life. I am settled in life with a beautiful wife and two gorgeous little boys who are a fantastic way of getting your blood sugar down if you’re through the roof – not so super when you are already low and need a break from leg grappling, dinosaur impressions and snot catching.

However, the injury has meant I have been house bound and knackered; not so much that I couldn’t wind up the laptop and look into all things diabetic, hence my delving into the world of ‘blogging’ and potentially becoming a regular ‘blogger’.

I have certainly learned that me and my diabetes are at one with one another over the years, I’ve never fought against it but have often felt, certainly in my younger years, that I could still do what I wanted and somehow I would get away with it. I did get away with it to some extent, but in retrospect it wasn’t worth the risk and I risked. Maybe this blogging will exhume some of those darker yet fantastically enjoyable experiences.

The paths we take in life shouldn’t be compromised by our condition, as what are we going to do otherwise, but taken hand in hand and dealt with as carefully and maturely as possible, that balance makes us who we are as Type 1s and I’m all for towing the line. But life isn’t a straight line and neither are my sugars at the moment – more like a beautiful mountain scape with wonderful mysterious gorges and exceptional snow-crested mountains, with some strange rambling goat herder stuck in the middle shouting, “lay off the carbs for a bit! Have a carrot!”

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