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February 10th, 2012
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After a very long day at work and a difficult drive home, I walked into my house and announced that I was home but going to take nap. I marched into my room, dropped my bag at the end of the bed and hit the hay.

My journey into the land of dreams was almost immediate it seemed because no sooner did I close my eyes that I was woke up in a dark room covered in sweat. I had kicked the blankets off and was trying to muster up the energy to sit up.

I could not do it. I heard footsteps around the house. Waiting for those footsteps to get close to my door so I could moan loud enough for someone to come in seemed like an eternity. And still I had no energy. I could hear my wife on the phone talking in what I thought was the dining room and my daughter listening to the Grease soundtrack in her room.

"They want me to die. They know I am slipping into a coma and they do not care! I should have known! What was I thinking? They wanted me to go to sleep. Maybe I should just go back to sleep and forget life." As these thoughts swirled around in my glucose deprived brain I heard footsteps near my door.

"George," I was able to slur out of my mouth.

My son walked into the room and asked, "Are you low?"

"Uh huh," which came out as I exhaled. Underneath that was a sting of guilt for ever thinking my family would want me dead. Where the heck did that come from?

He must have opened up my bag without me knowing and asked, "4 right?"

As he stood next to me with 4 orange glucose tabs in his hand I felt like I saw into the future. My son taking care of his old man. The damsel in distress to his knight shining armor. He was my hero. My little glucose touting superman.

"Yeah, thanks," I whispered.

I chomped down the four tabs quickly and laid there as he grabbed my BG meter and stood next to me until felt better.

When I was able to, I sat up and checked.

58.

I have no clue how to thank my family for all being type 3's. What do I do to repay my kids for having to take care of their father when they are not even done growing up? How do I apologize to them for having horrible thoughts when I get low?

All I can do is love them like they love me.




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George Simmons
George SimmonsGeorge Simmons is a father and husband living with type 1 diabetes. A self proclaimed "born again diabetic," George began blogging as a way to meet other people living with diabetes and learn more about managing his disease. (Read More)
Nicole Purcell
Nicole PurcellNicole Purcell lists having type 1 diabetes last when she's asked to provide information about herself - because that's where it belongs.

(Read More)
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