My son recently attended his second outdoor concert. If you remember, a couple of years ago we attended an AC/DC concert that was held in a large field. At that time I was fully of trepidation. I could picture a high that required us to find a washroom at the same time as the band came on stage. I imagined lows that would see us stuck in a crowd and unable to get to more glucose. Thankfully all went fine. I had a huge bag filled with water and glucose, my back was killing me by the end of the night but there were no major crisis to worry about!
This year, my boys were going crazy counting down until the latest outdoor event. It was a Kiss concert and they had convinced their father to buy tickets for it back in December! As the day approached, all of the same old worries came flooding back to me ten fold. Would my son remember to carry everything with him? Would he pack extra insulin and sites? He was going to be five hours from his father's house. Would his cell phone work and allow him to call me if there was a problem?
In my defence, I did not worry as much as I normally would. These things did go through my mind. I did go over all of these things with my son so he would be prepared. We discussed temporary rates for the times of walking the concert grounds and sitting in the car going to and from the venue. He knew what he had to do and was confident in his own abilities. I told him that he didn't have to call me on the day of the concert. I would let him enjoy and trust that he had it under control--but if he wanted to text me that would be okay too!
He didn't text. He didn't call. I was in constant contact with his brother getting regular updates on their arrival times and who was playing on stage at any given time, but I did not mention my youngest son. I prayed all was okay. I waited until Sunday to hear about the concert and how his care had gone. And I waited. And waited.
The boys had not returned home until the wee hours of the morning on Sunday so I expected to hear from the min the afternoon. Again, my oldest touched base and I knew that they were alive. Eventually he told me that his brother's phone had once again had the biscuit. Ugh! I told him to remind his younger sibling that his father's land line still worked.
A few hours later I heard from my youngest son. He was laughing and carrying on with a friend. He had taken his phone on a walk with him and decided to see if it would work. He was surprised to hear me answer the phone. His phone was alive once again!
We discussed the concert. It was the second best he had ever seen and definitely the worst. He had only been to two concerts but was not overly impressed with this one. It rained and the bands were not what he had expected. Nonetheless, he had survived. He claimed that his readings had been good despite a site that fell out. Because he was traipsing through the woods when he called, he didn't have his meter handy. He swore it was only a three minute walk away though.
He promised to call today with the low down on the numbers. Only a few more days and he will be home but so far its looking like my little boy is growing up. Testing...most of the time. Bolusing...most of the time. Dealing with highs, lows and calling to make adjustments. I guess there is some hope after all!