Last night was hard.
Wow. Just admitting that makes it feel a little better. I'm told that admitting when you're having trouble does tend to make the trouble easier. Maybe it's actually true.
So last night was night two of the Shrew Harrogate run. Two more to go. I find eating dinner whilst doing my stage management duties difficult. I don't exactly hide this, and I've talked about it on here before, but I'm trying my best. I know it'll be a while before I get to eat dinner. So I have a scone at about 3:30, before my ride turns up to take me over to Harrogate. The show goes up at 7:30, and I sit down and try and eat a sandwich and a low-fat yoghurt. Like I say, I'm trying the best that I can, and anything else is slightly intrusive to what's going on on stage. And I was generally feeling ok.
Until we hit the interval. I stand up and suddenly I feel like a light breeze could blow me over. But I have jobs to do. It's probably just headrush.
Why hello there, denial.
I start my jobs, but admit in passing that I'm feeling a bit dizzy. Best line of the night is then called out to me from outside the dungeon (actually a cellar under a building that we're using as our dressing room/green room)
'Is it a complicated sugar thing?'
Now I'm thinking it's almost certainly a good idea to test. Do some more jobs first, but then grab my meter. Open up my pot of test strips....
There are only two looking up at me.
When did that happen?!
Well, they'll have to do. Numberwang says....
1.9 (34 for over the pond-ers)
Oh bugger.
Now, there are about 5 minutes left of the interval. Still jobs to do. Suddenly serious issues of costumes that haven't been set, and no way of getting them into place before the second half starts appear, and I'm trying to eat Glucotabs and figure out solutions to these problems at the same time.
And I'm scared.
I don't like being that low. Hypos scare me, and I'm very glad that 1.9 remains the lowest I've ever been. What I'm really afraid of, I think, is being out of control and not being able to look out for myself. Generally I'm a believer that it's ok to be scared, but all I can think is that I've got to pull myself together and sort this out.
I want to cry - it's just all too much for my poor head. How the hell do I get the damn coat into the back room? Has the wine glass got back where it needs to be? Why didn't I water the geraniums in the hanging baskets, because now they're practically dead and look awful.
Test again.
3.7 (67)
So we're getting there. And now I'm hungry, and I want to eat everything in sight. And I just want to go home, maybe fall asleep with a dvd on before crawling into bed. But I've got a job to do. And everyone wants to go to the pub before the 45 minute (with good traffic) drive back to York. And I've missed the last train.
I need a hug from someone. I want to get my other pot of test strips that are sat on my bureau.
But what can you do? You practically have to scrape yourself up off the floor, and sit in the pub in a daze. But you have to carry on regardless. No matter how tired you feel.
So yes, I'd say it is a complicated sugar thing.
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Going down...
Thursday, 16 July 2009
| Labels: hypos, numberwang, theatre, type 1, work |
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