Last Friday, I went out to lunch with my sister, E.Hales and my housemate, Shep - it was our belated Christmas meal. It was really nice to spend time with the three of them together. My sister and I are a lot closer now compared to a few years back and E.Hales and Shep are two of my best friends, so it's really great for me that they both get on as well (E.Hales I know from school and I met Shep at uni).
We were chatting away, like we do when the waitress brought us our meals. Mine and my sister's came out first. I looked at my plate (grilled Mediterranean vegetable linguine if you were wondering), guessed at the carbs and took my insulin. During this process, the waitress had come back with the other two meals.
"I'll let you do that first," she said, "My daughter gets annoyed when I 'crowd her space' when she does her injections."
"Thanks," I replied having done the injection.
"She's type one too. Ten years now. But she's struggling at the moment. Fed up with it. Just doesn't want to do it anymore. That's normal, right?"
She had 'concerned parent' written all over her face.
"Yes," I responded quickly, wanting to put her mind at rest, "So normal! It's called 'burnout' and it sucks big time!"
And then I saw relief fill her face. What her daughter's going through isn't unheard of.
"Thank you," she said, and she left us to our meals.
|Image take from Google Images.|
Later, she came to clear our plates from dessert. I'd had profiteroles.
"Was everything okay for you ladies?"
"Lovely, thank you!"
"And did you take some extra insulin with yours?" she asked me.
"Crap, no! Thank you!" I replied as the others laughed.
"It's the Mum in me...I had to make sure."
It's safe to say she got a good tip from us.