In case you’ve not already picked it up from other things I’ve said on this blog: I am a very organised person. My friends used to joke that I must decide which shoelace I am going to tie up first before I bother bending over to do it. I’m not quite that bad, but the sentiment is right. I like to plan ahead. Funnily enough I think it helps me be more relaxed. If I’ve done my due diligence I spend less of my life having to stress over something I’ve forgotten to do (there are times when I slip up though, you’ll hear about a case like this on this blog pretty soon).

Anyway – part of being organised for me is always making sure I’m on time. I have one very hectic friend who lived over in London with me at the same time. Going anywhere with him ALWAYS involved being late and running through tube stations, trying to flag down buses between bus stops, negotiating your way quickly through huge crowds etc. You’d get there sweaty and stressed. I’d just rather leave ten minutes earlier and take my time.

Friday: had had a couple of lows that morning which had come right. Had a 2pm meeting up the road at my client’s work. My workmate also had a(nother) meeting up there so I offered to give him a lift. Due to some printer drama he was facing we didn’t end up leaving until about two minutes to 2pm, thus I didn’t walk into my meeting until 2:10pm. Unfortunately I was the only representative there from my work to take a detailed briefing…. and as I got the lift up to the seventh floor I realised I was low – potentially very low.

Strode into the meeting and apologised, while getting testing kit out and other meeting-related gear. Tested as the meeting began. DAMN – 2.2. I start shovelling glucose tablets into my mouth and have the foresight to pre-warn them that I’m very low on BG but I’ve had glucose tablets and will be ok. But the truth is I can barely see, barely talk, and the words they are directing at me are bouncing off me like a Top Town contestant off one of those floaty rotating things they have to jump over. Not good.

Thankfully these particular clients have been in dozens, if not hundreds of meetings with me before and go pretty easy on me. They are briefing me on about five things and I get my mojo back by around number three. And because the meeting’s gone pretty quickly I ask them to go back with me through the first two. I think everyone is relieved to have made it through… the most motherly of the clients in the meeting says I gave her a bit of a fright and she was about to run down the hallway to get me some orange juice.

Moral of the story: being late is even more of a nuisance when you’re diabetic.

Moral of the story 2: I don’t know how you do it (my natural tendency when low is to try to be all tough about it), but do let people know that you’re in trouble, and do let them try to help you. If I had that scenario again, I’d like to think that I’d make them wait (yet another) ten minutes while I came right, then start the meeting.