The alarm went off. I looked at the clock. I looked at the dark, rainy sky. I looked at my husband and child passed out next to me in bed. I thought of the night we'd had. And I said..."screw it."
3am had brought with it a baby asking for milk and a coinciding blood sugar of 46 mg/dL. I lay her back in bed after a good feeding, placed a foam pillow blockade where my body had been, and went to fetch a juice box.
My return was greeted with "PUH. Hey! Puh! PUH!" Apparently we learned a new consonant. Awesome. Let's stay up another HOUR practicing it. Let's get Daddy up, too, because this qualifies as quality family togetherness.
So I didn't have it in me to go walk. I claim my free pass.
Not to mention that I didn't raise ANY money this year.
Or that no one was expecting me because my D friends are all over the globe...except for in the great old Lone Star State. My D-twin George is making an enviable party of his 20 yr walk in SoCal. And for my 20 yr, I'm pulling the covers over my head in NorTex.
And lastly, need we mention that it's a walk for a cure I have never believed in?
I'm all for research. I'll support any technological advances that make my 3am's go more smoothly. But a cure is not really for those who currently have diabetes. I believe someday diabetes will be understood and eradicated, have its progression slowed in the newly diagnosed, perhaps, but no one has ever promised a cure for those of us who have the most tick marks on the prison walls. The cure is not for the veterans. That doesn't mean it's not worth pursuing - just that I don't always feel it's my fight. My place is here, now, advocating for patient rights, education, and support.
So I turned off the alarm and held my daughter a little tighter, feeling righteously that I deserved to get a little sleep.