This past weekend just shows why. We were at Larry's brother's house and I got a text on the back deck from my youngest son. They have a beautiful home but really there was no need to text me from one room to another. I knew by the ring tone exactly who it was and I said "he had better be dying."
The text read "I am wounded". I headed to see how wounded he really was.
When I got to my son's room, he showed me the site in his arm. It was soaked in blood. He was wounded. I took him in the bathroom where we changed the site and tried to stop the gusher from doing any damage to his clothes. Eventually it stopped and all was fine. We were both glad he had seen it before it made a mess in the bed clothes!
As I returned to the deck, I explained what had happened and how he was worried that he would spill blood all over their bedding. Larry's sister in law was not the least bit concerned but I knew that I would still have been mortified if we had left blood stains on her stuff.
We continued to have a great weekend. The weather was wonderful and we spent most of our time on quads enjoying the scenery. Monday arrived quickly and it was time to return home. There was work to be and play time was over.
I helped my son to tidy up his bed and get his stuff together. That's when we saw it...the blood stain on the sheet. We were not as lucky as we had thought. His site had bled before he noticed and had soaked through its bandaging.
|Blood and test strips! No doubt diabetes was here!|
I took the sheet off and made sure that she was aware that there was a spot that needed to be treated.
On the upside, she knew I didn't murder anyone in the room but still....I hate leaving blood evidence of our visits behind in people's homes.