The Meanest Person Ever…aka my diabetic slumber party

“Why can’t you just trust me?!” an angry Oz grumbled at me. He’d been at this for twenty minutes, trying to convince me he was okay when clearly he wasn’t. His sugars dropped nearly 90 points in 20 minutes…after consuming 70 carbs. For those of you that don’t speak diabetes, that translates to a really big deal.  He showed me his meter which read more of the same throughout the day. In other words, there was an epic battle raging inside Oz, and the guy that is my superhero was steadily losing.

I felt like the parent of a teenager as Oz petulantly glared at me. I didn’t know what to do, other than do my best to keep him safe. He really didn’t see things that way though. I was in his body’s way of what he desired…which appeared to be seeing how many people he could injure by attempting to drive home.

Oz is always really good about keeping his emotions in check, especially when it comes to either of our healths. But here I was feeling like the meanest person ever. At first it was comical. But then it got upsetting. And it was hard to remember Oz was in there, secretly grateful for my concern and determined spirit. Until, out of no where, he was back. And bright. And wonderful. And entirely mine again.

I wasn’t sure how long he would last, but I was so relieved to have his arms around me. and his smile warming my heart. In a twist of events, my Oz fell asleep mid-explanation of how he truly ought to drive home.

I kissed him in his sleep, only this time he didn’t smile.  I kept wishing I could jump into his dreams and help him. Or at least remind him that just because he is losing the battle doesn’t mean he has lost the war. I wanted to remind him of  our futures together. Of future days filled with his favorite amusement park rides. Of camping. Of many perfectly failed adventures, so far from frustrated diabetic slumber parties and their perfectly carb-counted snacks, where I’m not the meanest person in the world. And where I’m not a damsel in fibromyalgia distress. Where I’m just El, and he is my Oz again.

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