There should be stoppage time.

There’s not really a lot that depresses me about diabetes. Okay, there’s a lot that could depress me about diabetes. But I’m the kind of person that would let those things really get me down if I let them. So often, I choose not to think of them. Very often, I choose not to think of them, if you know what I mean. It’s one of the few parts of my life where I try to remain positive at all times.

But every once in a while… well, you just have to let yourself rant.

I was working around the house Saturday afternoon, cleaning, doing the laundry, that kind of thing. At some point, I went upstairs to make the bed that had been left unmade since morning. I had a couple of other things to do up there too, so I took the iPad with me and started up the Pandora® so I’d have some music while I worked.

Some 45 minutes later, the bed was only half made, and I was sucking back juice and honey. A bright 43 mg/dL showed on my meter.

Hey, as much as we would like them not to, these things happen. But where was my brain during this time? What happened to those 45 minutes? I have a right to ask… I’ll never get those 45 minutes back, and I feel cheated somehow. For three quarters of an hour, my brain was jello. It let me down.

Then I had to explain it to everyone in the house, and answer the questions like: “Did you know you were going low?” “Did you bolus too much at lunch?” “Why didn’t you get some juice sooner?”

The answer to all of those questions is, I DON’T KNOW. My brain checked out for that time. I have almost no recollection of anything other than fidgeting too much with the sheets and blankets and pillows on the bed, and walking around the bedroom what seemed like a hundred times. I don’t have an explanation for any of that either.

But I want my 45 minutes back. I feel like someone, something, some cosmic timekeeper, owes me 45 minutes extra. Stoppage time, they call it in soccer. I want my time back! At the end of my life, there should be a lot of stoppage time left over.

If, somehow, I ever do get my time back… trust me, I’m going to make very good use of it. What would you do with your extra stoppage time?

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  • Jennifer Christensen (@JennMamaBear)  On February 25, 2013 at 12:26 pm

    I had some “lost time” yesterday. My great-nieces were over for dinner.. and after a day of cleaning house (which brought my 200’s down to low 100’s) and cooking I was doing good. Until after dinner.. that’s when a 47 hit me. We were just getting ready to build a castle with blocks and I had to disappear to the kitchen. By the time I was coherent enough, and not slurring my words, it was time for them to go home. I want my castle time..


    • StephenS  On February 25, 2013 at 1:25 pm

      Ooh… sorry about that. It’s doubly worse when it comes at a time like that.


  • Scott K. Johnson  On February 25, 2013 at 2:34 pm

    I love that idea. Same goes for time lost to feeling nasty with high blood sugar.


    • StephenS  On February 25, 2013 at 7:46 pm

      Never thought of that Scott, but you’re absolutely right!


  • Scott E  On February 25, 2013 at 5:06 pm

    I know the feeling of seeing time pass and wondering what you were doing in that time. I’ve had it driving in circles around the streets of Center City Philadelphia — that was scary. I’m just glad I made it through OK and that (after more driving around, ironically, to find a place to park) I didn’t lose anything more than just some precious time.

    It would surely be nice to have those same 45 minutes tacked on to the end, but I’d just be grateful to have the next 45.


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