The Darkest Hour

It was a dark hour for Sweets.  Maybe the darkest she's had since her hospital stay.  No, she wasn't on the floor in a coma.  No, she wasn't sick from being too high. No, she wasn't in pain(physical pain anyway).  She was forced to be left out.  All of the family (family reunion) were headed to the park for a game of softball and fun.  She was so excited to play with her cousins.  Of course, we were behind because we had to do a check really quick to make sure she'd be o.k. there while I ran to the grocery store 10 minutes away.  She was left behind with the assurance I would drop her off in a second.
Her B.S. came back at 54.  She was over 200 ( too much juice) just an hour ago.  What the heck?  I had to go to the store for food for the next morning. There was no way I could stay with her at the park and I could not safely leave her there, even if I did get her levels back up.  There would be no one there to tend to her if she needed.  So, with a very tearful child, we left the fun behind and drove to the store.  I did pack up her sisters as well though, so she wouldn't be totally alone and promised a wonderful treat while we were out.  Still, nothing can bandage the sting, the hurt, the anger, the disappointment, and the sadness of something like that.  Diabetes..........has no mercy.

I put my sunglasses on and quietly cried with her all the way to the store.  Her littlest sister, in the best way possible, said "Mama, when Sweets get all better, she get no more pokes".  Sweets said "no Baby, I will not get better, I will have pokes until the day I die".  I began crying even harder.  The real killer was when Sweets then began to explain that she feels like a butterfly.  Before she had diabetes she was flying high, however she wanted, and now, she feels like someone put her in a jar with the lid shut tight to cage her in.  It was all I could do to pull it together before we pulled into the parking lot.
Yes.......I dare say......a very dark hour.