Asking for help

All in all, diabetes and independence have been strongly linked in my mind and lifestyle. I have managed everything relating to my diabetes since my teenage years. While parental reminders to test sugars or make appointments were present at home, and help was always available if I asked for it, I can count on my left hand the number of times that someone else partook in my control.

When I moved to London, not much has changed. I told my friends that I am diabetic and gave my roommate a rundown on the basics - ie If I act out of the ordinary, give me juice; if I'm unconscious or violent, call an ambulance. Aside from seeing me take needles and a few initial conversations about diabetes in general, diabetes had has no present in how we relate.

Lows are always the thing to avoid in the short term, and so I have been very good at always carrying simple sugars or knowing that there would be some source from which I could buy.
I've had no major lows this year. A few close calls where I had to change up my plans to treat a low happened, but nothing major.

Tonight was a close call. My walk home tonight was about 5 kilometers, nearly an hour. I walked home with a friend - soon in, I could tell that my sugars were not going to stay happy with me. After about 20 minutes, I was getting worried - we would be parting ways soon and I still had another 30 minutes before I would be home; it's 1:30 on a Sunday night... I only had two lifesaver candies left - I would not make it home safely at this rate. I began thinking of the options which would allow me to save face:
-hail a cab once we parted ways and get home as fast as possible
-wander around for a vending machine

So, there weren't enough options that were reliable. Realizing that there was no shame to be had, I asked her if she had any juice or sugar. She looked in her purse and then replied, "no." Preparing myself to invite myself to her house so I could get some juice, I saw the saving grace.... 7-11!
I'm sure my friend thought nothing more of this than if I had asked for a bus ticket or something like that, but for me, it is a reminder of how no-one is completely independent - everyone needs help sometimes.
In action, this story ends with me remaining independent - we parted ways and I walked quickly to the 7-11 and bought myself a root beer which was a good friend for the next half hour. In thought, I know that my independence is limited. While this has given me a renewed sense of humility, I am reminded that there is no shame in asking for help.