I suppose I should start just before I start work because I had to get through the stress of high school and the VCE exams. Unbeknownst to my parents I was over the stress of school and the importance that everyone was putting on a few weeks of exams to determine what your life will be. Luckily in Australia and at the time that was a load of crap. To me I had more maturity and stress just by getting up in the morning than I did by adding the complication of trying to know what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I didn't know then and I don't know now, but I do what makes sense and makes me happy. Through the exams I always made sure there was a supply of glucose close by and that meant ensuring that the teachers and observers knew everything that they needed to. I never knew if anyone really knew what to do if something ever happened.
The exams contained the usual stress of studying aswell as the battle of maintaining the right BSL levels and the worry if something went wrong. It was amazing how much time through out my school life and then even more so when I moved into the workforce.
Straight after leaving school and due to living in Geelong, Victoria I went to work with my dad who ran a home maintenance business doing anything from lawn mowing through to demolition and building. There is a few things I could say about my dad but what is important to this story is that he was a slave horse that didn't ever grasp the intricacies of my disease and what I would need each and every day. The best way to describe this was a day that I went out for work and after a full morning of cleaning carpets and mowing lunch time came and went. He was too busy to stop and I was too intimidated to stop. The afternoon continued an the work just kept on going. I was tired, not just the normal I could just stop after a busy day, I was my body just wanted to stop and even standing up with my eyes open was difficult. My mind was retreating into my head and my speech was becoming difficult. I knew I needed and wanted to talk but the signals from my mind were not getting to far. We were at the last job for the day which was cleaning up an office building in an industrial park. I eventually after stumbling around I eventually was able to tell dad that I needed sugar. It took him a few minutes to understand why but he gave me some coins and sent me towards the vending machine in the other room. He went about his work and I stumbled off and fumbled to make my body do what I needed it to. I got a can of normal (full sugar) soft drink and drank it in seconds. After a few minutes my ability to manage my body and talk returned but I was tired in and out. That being the case the job needed to be done as I wanted to get home and end this nightmare. After another 30 mins of half arsed work the day was done only 13 hours after it began. On the car ride home I was quiet. Partly cause I was annoyed that to me dad just didn't care and because I was not feeling the greatest. The trip was to take around 30 mins but I can't remember getting home. All I can remember is waking up on my bed still in my work clothes and only lying on the bed like I just crashed. I went out to dinner with the rest of the family to shocked faces. I was confused and had no idea why they were shocked. I asked and was told that I had gotten home and with out saying anything and not responding to anyone I came into the house and went straight to the cake tin that is always in the kitchen. I proceeded to take and eat a quarter of the cake. As I was doing this mum told me that dinner was coming and that I shouldn't. I angrily yelled something at her took the cake and disappeared to my room. The next they saw me I was coming out of my room just now to all the confused faces. After informing everyone that I had no memory of this event and doing a BSL test it was determined that this was my first severe hypoglycaemic episode (a BSL lower than 4). This wouldn't be the only time I have what I call time loss due to a hypo. Much later on I would realise that this would be due to exhaustion, lack of eating and being hypo for an extended amount of time. The soft drink wasn't enough obviously.
It wasn't long after this situation that I knew I wouldn't be able maintain my dads work and I convinced them that my way forward was to join my brother in the hospitality industry and go to hospitality college. Once again the life story and warnings had to be told to select people I worked with or went to school with. It still happens today but now I see it as a chance to educate rather than a just in case explanation that will go I one ear and out the other because of miss understanding on what it is for.
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