The Search
Three O'Clock wake up.
Scratchy, dry, ragged thirst.
Aching, tingling, toes are lit up tonight.
Thanks to a High.
No CGM beeps. No. Just natural alarm.
The Search begins.
Stumbling at first, then dark veil is brushed away.
Poke in the finger, redness rushes out
Not to relieve the thirst, but to paint a test strip
It screams at me: 499. I scream inside.
Correction comes for 14.
To wash away this sand in my throat.
Easing the desert dryness
Some Highs. Some Lows. Water and Sugar.
And Everything in Between.
So the Search goes on.
For Balance.
In the World of Diabetes.
Scratchy, dry, ragged thirst.
Aching, tingling, toes are lit up tonight.
Thanks to a High.
No CGM beeps. No. Just natural alarm.
The Search begins.
Stumbling at first, then dark veil is brushed away.
Poke in the finger, redness rushes out
Not to relieve the thirst, but to paint a test strip
It screams at me: 499. I scream inside.
No balance. No rhyme. Just random.
Correction comes for 14.
The Search goes on.
To wash away this sand in my throat.
Smooth. Silky. Ice cubes swimming, floating
Within crystal clear waters
Waiting to flow freely, coating the inside
Like the blood coats the now-used strip
Easing the desert dryness
Until it's no more. An oasis of moisture.
Pure Ecstasy. At least for a moment.
Momentary soothing of a late-night High.
Until the insulin kicks in, flushing the sugar out.
Another day begins.
After 26 years, each day is much the same.
After 26 years, each day is much the same.
Some Highs. Some Lows. Water and Sugar.
And Everything in Between.
So the Search goes on.
For Balance.
In the World of Diabetes.
Comments
The imagery. I could feel the high, the water attempting to sooth it all.
Well done. :-)
Little did I know...