Just the other day I was talking about taking insulin for granted.
Even then, while I was raving about the wonders of my life-juice and nattering about how we shouldn't take it for granted... I was being a total dork and taking it for granted.
Last week I got a new script. I took my time with it, but finally took it to the chemist on Monday, and told him I'd come back to pick it up on Wednesday. I always have to give him a day or two warning because he never has my stuff in stock (that's another story!).
So Tuesday night rolls around and I feel like supper. I reach for my insulin... 0 units left. Not even one, not even half - zero units left.
How's that for cutting it fine? No supper for me (I'd just BAKED for gawd's sake). NO breakfast this morning until I'd gone all sleepy-eyed down to the chemist either. I don't think I've ever shown my face at the shops in such a mess before - my hair was grotty, my clothes were thrown together, my eyes were barely open... but I stood there with my hand out begging for my Novorapid and then slunk out pretty quick to go home and have a piece of toast.
I do count myself lucky that I had just the right amount for dinner last night and that I managed the night without needing a correction. But man oh man am I kicking myself for not getting my prescription earlier! I *always* have spares in the fridge. I *always* get my prescription well before I need it - now it seems Insulin and I have reached that point in our relationship where we take each other for granted. Doh.
I shall now return to my old ways of keeping one step ahead and treating my insulin as the liquid gold that it is!
Mental note: take your own advice, dork. DUH.
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