The Diabetic Partner Follies, Act 3: Hypo “Murder” in New Zealand

Welcome again to The Diabetic Partner Follies, the weekly revue where partners of people with diabetes share the view from their side of the glucose meter. They’re helping us understand that it can be far from easy living with a PWD (person with diabetes). And hopefully, “The Follies” gives them a place to connect and learn from each other, too.Remember that submissions are welcome: no entry too short, sarcastic or insignificant! Email me if you’d like to participate.

This week’s entry comes from halfway accross the world,
where Graeme and Gail Ellison live happily together in New Zealand…
except for the occassional night when the police are alerted. Read this:

Hi from way down here in New Zealand. My wife Gail
has had T1 diabetes since 1958, she is now 56 years old. We first met when she was 16 and I was 23, then
both went our seperate ways until 2000, when I decided to “look her up” when I
was in the North Island where she lived… I was living in the South
Island. As a consequence of catching up, we ended up living
together for 10 years before tying the knot at ages 54 and 61 years
OLD!

The most memorable “diabetes-related” event was the
night Gail had a bad hypo which I had difficulty in dealing with. She has lost
all warning signs of hypo’s so can no longer deal with the ones that creep up on
her. I was attempting to get her to drink some liquid glucose but she accused me
(in a raucous voice) of trying to kill her. She screamed herself hoarse in an
attempt to fight me off, but I finally won the battle then went out to the
kitchen to make a sandwich for her.There I was, at 1am, standing at the
kitchen bench in nothing but a pair of shorts, a carving knife in
hand, as I
sliced cheese for the sandwich. Next thing, there is a knock on the door and
there stood a member of the NZ Police Armed Offenders Squad, dressed in
balaclava and combat uniform, complete with something that resembled an AK47! He
cautioned me to put down the knife and to carefully step out onto the verandah.
“Look around and you’ll see that we have the property surrounded”, he told me.
Sure enough, I counted 7 armed Armed Offender Squad members – ALL pointing their
weapons at me. There was an ambulance parked across the top of the driveway and
police cars parked all over the place.

After alot of fast talking, I finally convinced
them that all was well, but they insisted on interviewing Gail, who was by this
stage almost back to normal but feeling (and looking) terrible. She was wringing
wet, bed clothes strewn all over the place and to her horror, wearing a Nightie
(PJ’s) that should have been thrown away years before. The Senior Sergeant told
us that he had just completed a First Aid course and “could he please
have a shot at testing Gail’s blood glucose level as he’d never come across a
real live diabetic before”!

We were told that a neighbour – no names given -
had contacted the police to report that a murder was
taking place “nextdoor”.