Saturday, September 03, 2005

The plastic bean dispenser and two imaginary bandaids.

I had the biggest hypo on playground duty this week. I bolused my lunch units in time to wait the needed thirty minutes for my Atrapid shot. I tested and was cruising on a cosy and ideal 5.1 before I waddled downstairs, clutching my water bottle in one hand and pushing my plastic bean shaped JB dispenser into my pocket with the other. I should have done my maths a little better.

After weaving my way through twittering, excited kids I made my way to the back field and stood in the semishade of that spindly gum that marks the boundary between playgrounds. As usual small squads of kids wandered up to tell me about stuff'. A couple of kindy punters visited to show me imaginary 'injuries' caused by somebody or other not letting them play some game. I immediately applied a splash of my magic water as they giggled, drinking up the attention. I pretended to put an invisible band aid on as I kept one wary eye on the madcap crowd running their soccer ball towards the fence. Already clearly in the out of bounds zone past the trees. But I opted not to go over and yell at them just yet- they looked too much like they were having fun bounding after the ball, taunting the opposition, all secretly starring in an a World Cup commentary in their own headspace. Eighty little Beckhams chasing several battered balls.

Two of my Little Dears bounded up to chat with me. Then all hell broke loose. A ball went over the fence, two kids got into a punch up and another came over to tell me someone was a bit hurt over there as she pointed in some vague direction. First things first I thought. Supervise the ball back over the fence before twelve Beckhams scramble over and across the road. Separate the fighters on the way-make them stay with me them walk over and attend the injured.

At that precise moment I stepped into the tunnel. Voices started to merge. My own voice sounded far away-faint and foreign. My eyes felt BIG. There was buzzing. Loads of distant buzzing and the sky became 'dark'. I heard some woman (must have been me) say 'I think I'm going Hypo'. Two small heads nodded and pointed to the JBs already in my hand. I began to cram them in. Three sweet Jelly Belly beans at a time, sailing towards the fence as I called out a warning not to climb over. I kept moving, don't know how because it didn't feel like I was working my legs(-was I gliding?). The JB Queen from hypoland kept cramming in the beans. One moppet asked why I was eating the jelly beans, my two glared and declared 'She has to'. I finally reached the punch up, separated them wordlessly then arranged them either side of me. All the while chewing, chewing, chewing.

I sent one little Beckham through the gate as I watched. The tunnel was getting longer, the buzzing louder. The ball came over the fence. I turned back towards the top playground. It seemed a three day march away. Injury directory girl pointed vaguely to the top of the playground shaking her little finger as she exclaimed over and over about 'that girl that fell down near the bin.'

I commenced another gliding movement in the pointed direction. Praying for the second half chimes to beep beep beep me to release. The first beep sounded and my replacement stepped out from behind the stairs. Sweet blessed relief. Does she know how merciful her chronic punctuality can be? My legs were wet spaghetti. I held the first aid bag out in front of me and pointed to the injury directory girl. 'She knows where an injured kid is sitting, I think I'm hypo, thanks for getting here on the bell.' I wandered deep in the tunnel to the canteen-JB Queen was squawking in my head about 'the orange box'. I knocked on the window and asked for orange juice. My fingers felt like sausages as I rummaged for coins in my purse. I held the juice in front of me and fumbled with the office door then through the hall to the staffroom building. As I pushed the staffroom door open I began to feel the JBs kicking in. The tunnel got shorter. I sat down. Struggled with the 'secure-a-seal' plastic on my OJ and gripped hard to screw the lid off. The juice was cold. The tunnel opened. I ate my sandwich and tried to talk normally. Thank God I had RFF next.

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