"The day you forget to bring extra pump supplies to work, something will cause you to have pump issues."
Some of you may have caught my Tweet about this yesterday, and others may have seen Kelly's inspired blog post, but now it's time to tell my story. My first few hours at work yesterday were downright frustrating. As I left my house, I made sure I had everything I usually keep in my purse, a banana for breakfast, my cell phone. I glanced quickly at the purple case where I keep my emergency stash of pump supplies. (Or mid-day set change supplies or what have you.)
"You're going to be okay today, right?" I asked my pump. Of course, my pump didn't answer. There was a nearly full reservoir, and I was sporting a 2-day old Cleo. Maybe that was my first mistake. "I should be okay if I don't take the bag today." Okay, that was definitely my first mistake, if not my second.
I arrived at work, checked emails, did worky stuff. I made myself a cup of hot tea and busted out my banana. Midway through the banana bolus: "Buzz buzz buzz buzz buzz buzz buzz buzz."
Please tell me my battery is just running low, I groaned in my head. I've got AAA batteries at work for various things, and if I ever need to borrow one, that's easy. I pulled my pump from my pocket: BLOCKAGE DETECTED. Great. Just fucking great. This better be because I'm sitting weird in my chair, otherwise I will need to go home for a new set. A quick trip to the ladies' room to attempt readjustments completely failed. My only option was to email my boss, tell her why I needed to leave, go home, and come back.
My boss is a sweet and understanding woman. She let me go home to fix things without question, and for that, I was grateful. I drove home, did a full set change, and packed some syringes and an extra vial of Novolog in my purse, just in case. When I got back, my boss IMed me to see if I was feeling better. She came up with the helpful solution that we could find a drawer somewhere to lock up some emergency supplies for me. I think this is a great idea, and one she didn't necessarily even have to suggest, but I also hate feeling like I'm imposing on someone else.
At the very least, the lesson I'm learning is that I need to make sure I always leave home with extras. I have been better about it lately, but still, what if I wasn't as nearby as work when this happened? What if I had been at a concert? The movies? A friend's house? In the middle of downtown Philadelphia? Time to start stocking up all my bags. If I want to start acting like a grown-up with diabetes, I have to be willing to pack like one.
Monday, May 10, 2010
I always think of the whole "there is no spoon" thing from The Matrix, because I feel like there is no typical day with diabetes. But let me tell you about my day with diabetes so far. I will even backdate us slightly, to last evening.
It was a quiet evening at home, lounging on the futon, plotting to watch the newest episode of Doctor Who. I was downright lazy about checking my BG yesterday as well, since it wasn't exactly a lazy Sunday, but a Sunday of doing whatever I pleased. Well, lounging on the futon next to my sweetie then led to some rather, ahem, R-rated activities, the details of which I am going to spare you. Needless to say, this led to being detached from my pump for...um...
Well, I'm not sure how long I was disconnected exactly. It felt like it kept getting in the way of my fun, so I spent a fair amount of my, erm, adult time untethered. Maybe it was the overload of endorphins, but I didn't even really notice that I was feeling poorly afterward. I have been a bit under the weather since last week, and I chalked up my dry mouth to an unusual amount of mouth-breathing due to my head being congested. I watched my episode of Doctor Who. I went and got ready for bed. Checking my BG, I was met with a whopper: 402 mg/dl.
I swapped out my pump set for good measure and then did my correction bolus. I woke up this morning with my heart pounding, half-sweaty. My stomach yelled out to my brain, "FEED ME, SEYMOUR!!" Check the BG, and it's low. 84. That may not sound terribly low, but believe me, it's kind of harsh considering I went to bed so high. I managed to awkwardly propel myself from the bed down to the kitchen, where I consumed a few sips of juice and a slice of cold pizza. I pulled some clothes from the dryer while I was downstairs, then raced back upstairs because 8 minutes of my precious morning get-ready time was spent diagnosing a low and then eating. Threw on some clothes, made something out of my hair, and dotted a fair amount of concealer on my neck. Yes, my neck. I told you, things got adult.
I arrived at work feeling much better, although not entirely better. It's still work after all. Speaking of which, time to get back to working. Look for more posts this week!!