Twas a night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a CGM was beeping, all sensors were out.
The transmitter was stashed amongst the pump supplies with care
In hopes that my insurance company soon would say, “Clear!”
The gummy bears were nestled all snug in their bag,
Patiently awaiting for diabetes to attack.
The cat under covers, the dog taking a nap,
It was only a matter of time before diabetes would snap.
When just down the hall there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed in a soaking wet lather.
Panicked and stricken, I searched for my glasses,
Hoping to high heavens my feet weren’t molasses.
The moon in the window lighting my way
Leading me to the kitchen where the gummies await.
Like a chorus of Hungry Hippos my teeth were a chatter,
Am I low? Or just cold? Truthfully, it doesn’t matter.
Flicking on the lightswitch in a soaking wet fury,
“Get in my belly you gummies!” I said, a bit slurry.
More delicious than glucose tabs and easier to swallow,
The red ones are best, and what makes the clear ones so hollow?
The clock ticks, the minutes pass, waiting for a fixin’
It doesn’t seem to be working, my brain says as I listen.
I think, “Let’s chase the gummies with a bottle of soda!”
“Diet, that’s not,” a voice says, kind of like Yoda.
As the bottle is emptied I start to stop shaking,
This all will have consequences in the morning upon waking.
Tired and worn out, I drag my carcass to bed,
Where visions of semi-coherent boluses dance in my head.
And then, in a moment, the sun starts to shine.
Morning already?! It was only just five!
As I sit up in bed, and try to shake off the fog,
I realize I feel like a rotting old log.
Time to get dressed, from my head to my foot,
“I think I wore these clothes yesterday,” I think as I look.
A bundle of sweaty clothes, a shower is needed.
What happened last night, and why am I still seated?
I make it down the hallway, shuffling feet in my slippers,
When all of a sudden I spot movement that’s chipper!
When, what to my sleepy-filled eyes should appear,
Those gummies are partying, and one of them has a beer!
I shake, and I tremble, and rub my eyes in disbelief.
A gummy bear palooza, in MY kitchen sink?!
I grab my pump quickly, and notice the last,
A bolus, SWAG-worthy, taken blindly and fast.
I reach for my meter, and check without fear,
Hoping that some sense in those numbers will appear.
Double-digits, that figures, at least now I know
Those gummy bear phantoms were all because I was low.
Photo by Pato Garza (CC license)
Diabetically Speaking 