The Crazy Things Love and Diabetes Can Make You Do

I stepped on a piece of glass at home recently. Suddenly I was home alone, hopping around barefoot and worrying (okay, freaking out) about diabetes and my foot.

I couldn’t get upstairs easily for the tweezers, but I knew my husband was on his way home so I just sat down and started trying to pull it out. It was a very small and stubborn sliver of glass in the outer part of the middle of my foot. I could feel it just barely sticking out but had no idea how deep it was in and I couldn’t actually grip it with my nails. I tried to squeeze it out and while blood appeared, the glass remained firmly embedded.

Hubby arrived home and though I tried to keep my audible panicking to a minimum he read the look on my face and sprang into action. He quickly flipped on the overhead light, grabbed the tweezers and his reading glasses, and went to work on my foot.

The glass moved around a bit but it seemed no amount of tweezing or squeezing would get it out. I whimpered a moment since it hurt, but quickly caught myself and said “Do whatever you have to do, just get it out.” I didn’t want him to be afraid of hurting me. I just wanted to have it over without having to make a trip to the after-hours urgent care clinic or the emergency room.

The last time I had a foot injury, the doctor, upon hearing I had diabetes, put his hands in the air and said he wasn’t going to touch it and that I needed to make an appointment with a specialist. I didn’t want a repeat of that.

Suddenly it felt much better. I asked him if he got it and he said he thought he did but he couldn’t find where it went. Instinctively, just to be 100 percent sure it was out, he grabbed my foot and put his mouth on it, sucking hard on the area like it was a snake bite. He wanted to be sure it was absolutely out and not pushed further in.

I was, and still am, in total shock by this move. I don’t by any means medically recommend it. Looking back we both know it was a risky move. I could have gotten an infection. He could have gotten glass in his mouth. He was worried though and he made a last-ditch panicked effort to keep me safe and make sure I was okay.

It was the most selfless thing he could have done. I know I married the right guy, a guy who would rather eat glass, literally, than watch something happen to my foot.

Thankfully he had already gotten the glass out and after we cleaned the affected area on my foot, and vacuumed the room, I was back up and around on my foot with very minimal pain. The small spot went on to heal quickly.

My husband has shown himself to be a hero to me on more times than I can count. Sometimes I forget that he has many of the same fears about diabetes that I do. We might not always speak about them, but they are there. I’m sorry he has to deal with them but I’m glad I’m not the only one watching my step.

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