“Oh, it’s good.”
“I don’t know much about diabetes,” he admitted. “I hope you don’t mind me asking you questions.”
“No, I don’t mind,” she said quietly. Questions were good. At least he wasn’t immediately telling her what she should do or making assumptions about her life. “I need to take my insulin.”
“Right, by injection, yes? Where do you do it?”
“Usually in my stomach or thigh, sometimes my arm.”
“Can’t you get like a pump or something?”
“Yeah, you can. But my insurance doesn’t cover it,” she told him as she cleaned her hands with a wipe then prepared the syringe. “You can get pens too which are easier, but my insurance doesn’t fully cover them either.” She cleaned her skin with an alcoholic wipe then injected the insulin into her tummy. “It’s okay, I’m normally pretty good at keeping it under control. It’s just sometimes I’ll forget to eat.”
She tidied up, putting the needle in a plastic container she’d bought with her so she could get rid of it later.
“Well, we’ll have to see what we can do to stop that,” he muttered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She shrugged. “Some people react weirdly. Some act as though it’s my fault almost. If I just did this or ate that, then I could miraculously cure it.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he stated, making her insides go warm.
“I didn’t want it to come between us.”
“Nothing is coming between us.” He reached over and took her hand. Then he cleared his throat awkwardly as though just realizing what he’d said. He let her hand go. “Is there anything I should know? Signs to look for if your blood sugars are dipping or spiking?”
“Oh well, signs of it spiking are usually a headache or I’ll need to pee and drink a lot and be really tired. When it dips too low, I often feel light-headed and tired. Sometimes I get irritable and anxious.”
He frowned. “I need a list of what to look for and what to do to help you. Will you give me that?”
“Sure,” she told him. “I can do that.” She dropped her head, feeling like she was being a nuisance.
He moved closer, setting his finger under her chin and raising her face up. “Hey, don’t be embarrassed. You do whatever you need to do to be healthy. That’s what is important.”
She bit her lip shyly but nodded. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me for being understanding about your health. I never want you to hide anything that might put your health at risk, understand me? No matter what we are doing or where we are, you stop and you tell me. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“I’m very serious about this, Mari-girl. I will not be happy if your health is put in jeopardy because you didn’t tell me about something.”
“Yes.” Wow. He made her feel so special and cared for. It nearly brought tears to her eyes.
“How long have you been diabetic?” he asked.
“Since I was thirteen. It was hard in the beginning, there was so much to learn and remember.”
“Was your aunt much help?”
Help? Rosalind?
“I’m going to take your answer as a no,” he said dryly.
She shrugged. “No, she wasn’t much interested in helping.” She reached for a sandwich and took a bite. “Thanks for waiting for me. You didn’t have to.”
His eyes widened. “My nana would have whipped me good if I’d started eating first.”
She swallowed a mouthful of egg salad sandwich. “She would have?”