I woke up with blood sugars (BS) of 445. That's very high. Stress is a bitch when you are diabetic -- it kicks in your fight or flight responses and tells your liver to get ready to release glucose for your muscles in order to, you know, fight or run like hell. It's a mind/body thing.
I stopped by my parents' house yesterday after breakfast, just to chat with them about additional
|He looks harmless enough|
They have enough on their plates, they don't need to worry about my worry. I have already told them I cannot continue to care for mother while dad is away on extended trips. I wish I could and it was the most painful thing to conclude that my body and brain are simply not up to it. It feels as if I am failing them.
I came home yesterday in a fog. It's a profound frustration to watch them struggle and create some of their own dilemmas. To have a caregiver there that they won't let do the things she could do to make their lives easier. Dad cannot give up control of the kitchen and cooking meals. He is too exacting and too particular about the way food is to be prepared and presented. He harbors grudges against her lack of attention to certain tasks, but doesn't speak to her about it. And so it goes. It's just too painful to watch.
I am fantasizing what it would be like to not see them for weeks on end. An absolutely selfish dream, but one that I have nevertheless. Let their next health crisis happen without me. I'll be on a beach in Costa Rica. Hiking the Ballycotton Cliffs in Cork, Ireland. Or just staring at my navel under the cedar tree out front. In the short term, I'm going to visit my daughter and her family for a little R&R. Chat with my grandson about the joys of Kindergarten. Feel L.'s belly to see if her lil' peanut is rolling around inside. Have a beer with my son-in-law. Ah.