Bracelets and Blood Sugar Babble

I received my new medical bracelet!

My new bracelet came from the same company who sent me my favourite, trusty, old faithful—shown below. Slightly bashed, but I've been sporting this one for a long time now.

What I love best about these is people know exactly what they are off the bat. Which is a major plus in my books.

This is not your fragile, flimsy, "I'm not quite sure what I am" piece of jewellery . Nope. This is a loud, proud, screech on the megaphone, lean on me anytime - style bracelet. But not ugly. No, my little wrist shaped friend, you are most certainly not ugly.

Especially when your owner photographs you against an Anthropologie coaster backdrop.

IMG_2922.jpg

A highly visible bracelet may seem like a negative to those of us who like the finer, more subtle things. But I must concede when it comes to fashion versus my continued existence on planet paralysed pancreas. Life is sweet. The irony!

There’s no point having something muted, meek and mild when it needs to be an explosive, skyward bound flare for what is a serious medical condition.

Diabetes can and will render you incapable of speaking words at times. Fortunately, Barry speaks diabetes (it’s a whole new language) and can translate slurred syllables into plain English.

He understands the phrases below to mean I’m having a hypoglycaemic (low-blood sugar) event:

  • High-pillow
  • Hippo
  • Wizzy (as in dizzy, of course. W’s are actually quite hard when you’re hypo)
  • Izzy (as above, only so much easier to pronounce!)
  • Zoogar or sometimes Doose (A.K.A I’m hypo, back off, I’m chugging sugar / juice)

It’s a little like understanding baby talk. Low blood sugar babble is what we call it.

In an emergency, we need to be understood or we need someone to see what’s wrong with us. Which is where the bracelets come in. With my best pointy finger at the ready.

Affiliate links on the images below.

When Barry is around to put it on for me, the bracelet below is great. When he’s not, I spend a bit of time chasing the chains around my wrist, trying to hook it together. Not so much of a problem if I have a few minutes to spare. And a kitchen counter to wedge it up against.

Hence this new one was ordered for easy, slip-on application.

Information I include on my bracelets:

  • Full name
  • Type 1 Diabetes
  • On Insulin Pump
  • My in case of emergency (I.C.E.) contact number

If there were any extra space on my bracelet, it would say this:

Please understand: I have no glucose in my brain right now. This is NOT a good time to ask me questions!

People seem to think asking me lots of questions during a hypo is a great idea. And I see the logic. Keep the woozy one talking and they will surely remain conscious? Answering questions must be calming in a situation like this, right?

Sadly, no. When I have less than optimal glucose in my brain, it’s not firing on any cylinders. Please forgive me if you receive blank stares, repetition or if I sit on the floor and face the wall. For me, no sensory stimulation whatsoever is what gets me back on track the fastest. That and letting me just drink the damn juice!

Feel free to tell me ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got you’ or ‘Everything’s going to be okay’. Then, just stay nearby and be a squeakless mouse.

Answering questions uses up much needed energy!

IMG_2936.jpg

I wear a medical bracelet all the time when I’m out of the house and, generally, once I’m up and about at home, I put it on too. It’s one of the healthiest habits I have.

So, if you have a medical condition, flaunt your medical bracelet with pride. It could save your life one day.

*This is not a sponsored post. Amazon affiliate links are included.*