I fear Jedi’s diabetes most while he’s sleeping. It’s all a matter of the unknown. I have no idea how he’s doing and I don’t know if he’d jolt awake with a major blood sugar dip. My heart pauses for the slightest moment every morning I go in to drag him out of bed, thinking maybe this will be the day he’s so severely low that he just won’t wake up.
Rationally, I know the odds of this happening are slim. That doesn’t ease the worry, however. Making it a very bad time to pull a prank.
“Jedi, rise and shine, sleepy head! School day!”, I sang cheerily like I do every morning as I entered his room. It’s not unusual for him to fight my wake-up call, he’ll resist going to school at every turn, but I always see his eyes flicker open, at least. This time, they stayed shut tight. So I grew slightly more urgent.
“Come on, Jedi! Get up!”, I ordered, pulling the covers off of him. Still nothing. No change in expression or altered breathing. His eyes didn’t budge, his body continued resting in the same side position. This wasn’t like him. This was different.
I began to panic. More specifically, I began to freak out.
Rocking him back and forth, I pleaded with desperation, “Jedi! Wake up! WAKE UP!”. All without the slightest hint of movement. I thought for sure my worst fear was realized.
My mind was racing over what to do next. If I should grab the emergency insulin pen or call an ambulance. Please be OK. Oh my god, this can’t be happening. When Jedi’s eyes shot open.
“I don’t want to go to school today!”
Boy, you have got to be kidding me.