Blood red roses

This morning, just before stepping into the shower, I pulled out my cannula planning to resite once I was dried off.

I got in the shower, a million things going through my mind: (How is it Monday? I feel like I’ve hardly had a weekend. Oh, that’s right; I’ve hardly had a weekend- I worked Friday night and all-day Saturday. What does the kidlet have on at school today? Is it art? We need to buy dog food. Did I organise for the kidlet to sleep over at my parents tomorrow when Aaron and I see Sting? STING!!!!! I love Sting. How AWESOME was it to see Sting last Thursday night at Bennett’s? I want coffee. What’s the weather going to be today? I should download ‘Mozart in the Jungle.’ Sting tomorrow – yay! Oh – I need to keep promoting Spare a Rose, Save a Child this week because it’s Valentine’s Day on Saturday. Sting tomorrow night….)

And then I looked down and saw that the water pooling at my feet was bright, bright red. It took me a moment to realise what was going on – my head was still thinking Spare A Rose and Sting – and in that time, I watched the swirling pattern the red water was making as it moved around me and made its way down the drain.

Involuntarily, my right hand flew to my right side. I looked down and saw the blood gushing from where, just a few moments ago, I’d removed the cannula.

I pressed hard to stem the flow of blood, my hand getting covered with red.

The blood stopped pretty quickly. The water at the bottom of the shower turned from the Russian Red colour of the MAC lippie I wear most days, to pink, to clear again.

Of course, I didn’t lose all that much blood. But it looked pretty impressive. And I thought about how nonchalant and calm I am when things like this happen.

I continued with my shower, my mind drifting again, thinking about how the word ‘sting’ is frequently used in diabetes marketing materials. And then thinking about the Sting gig tomorrow night. And then thinking about blood. And the slight sting I could feel where I’d been bleeding. And roses. My thoughts were all muddled. But I knew that there was something tying them all together. I just couldn’t work out what it was.

It wasn’t until I was standing at the café near work waiting for my morning coffee that it hit me. I remembered an obscure Sting song from a compilation album of pirate songs and sea shanties. Sting sang one song on there. And it was called Blood Red Roses. I’ve not heard that song for years and as soon as I got to work I found it on YouTube and played it.

Sting and roses. That pretty much sums up this week.

Only a few days until Valentine’s Day, but plenty of time for you to Spare a Rose and Save a Child. Remember, for the price of one little rose, you can provide a month’s worth of insulin and save the life of a child.