A MIDNIGHT FEAST!

That it is 2.25 a.m. whilst I eat and blog away with some hysteria isn't totally out of the ordinary as my insulin dependant diabetes has its way of waking me up to eat when my blood sugars start dropping below normal. All very clever stuff really and amazingly my urge to eat rather than drink the carbs is always the greater pull. No orange juice or lucozade for me, not even a nice milky drink and a digestive biscuit. Oh no that would be far too simple! As the hypo takes its hold so do my desires. Almost always it has to be crunchy. Not the choc bar but something that is al dente. Prefereably not a vegetable, certainly not a nice wholesome piece of fruit but almost always and without too much hesitancy I know that cereal and soya milk with a sprinkling of my fruisana sugar in the 'right sized bowl' with the right sized spoon is just what I need. Weetabix wont work where Oatbix, more like cement on the pallette works well, but overall it is the consistancy and effort factor that helps me through these lows. After 30+ years of experiencing these several times a week chemical urges I have come to the decision that a hypo should be a feast not just a quick fix. I have been known to go to great lengths, shuffling along stairs and floors on my bottom, simply because remaining upright isn't an option to get me into the larder, select the correct box and eat it dry because my weakness wont let me stand to get the milk. Don't shout at me please! I'm sure as eggs are eggs that you're telling me to put some sweet food by the bed every night. Of course that would be sensible but then I just know that even if my sugars were well within normal range I'd find myself just a weeny bit peckish at around the midnight hour and the hypo-stop tin of biscuits (crunchy of course) or chocolate with something nutty or biscuity inside naturally, would suddenly become a desire which I don't need but feel I deserve.
Takes me back to being a ten year old at sleepovers with my best friend. Would her lovely rotund and always smiley faced dad (uncle Bob) have realised that my memories of those wonderful midnight feast memories in tents in their back garden, at UK kids summer camps in dormatories and in Myras library of a bedroom would stick in my mind like Oatibix? The plates of cream filled chocolate biscuits, the tomato ketchup flavoured crisps and the flying saucers, papery, colourful, light and full of zingy sherbert are colourful and sweet memories. I've no doubt that the feasts were often no later than 11 p.m. and used to drive Aunty Betty mad with her husbands attitude of spoiling us and rotting our teeth and sadly neither he nor she are around any longer to discuss in any more detail however I'm delighted to report that my teeth are still firmly in tact and my memories of the fun we used to have even more so. Cereal n soya munched, tea drunk and sugars flying high again no doubt. It must be time for sleep. 2.45 a.m! z...zzzzzzzzzzzz sleep well!