Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Wordless Wednesday: The Smell of Band-Aids

Ah, that frustrating moment when you realize something is wrong with your pump site. Who knows how much of that bolus actually hit your bloodstream? Sigh.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Don't Let the Bedbugs Bite, or How I Nearly Burned Down a Laundromat and Lost My Sanity

The late afternoon sun gleamed over the parking lot.  Matt sat next to me on the side of a planter, we sipped our sodas and chewed on some garlic knots from the pizza place next door.  We watched the first fire truck pull up, the first firefighters getting out and pulling on their gear.  Smoke was pouring out of the laundromat doors.  I had no idea what was actually happening inside.

"You know," I thought to myself, "if the whole place goes up, maybe that's not the end of the world.  Maybe it would just be easier to start all over again."

There was a perturbed woman in purple across the parking lot.  When it got quieter, you could hear her griping into her cell phone to whomever was on the other end.  "My baby granddaughter's clothes are in there!" she said with nearly the same emotional weight another person would use if their actual granddaughter was trapped in the building.  I rolled my eyes.  The entire launderable contents of her house weren't trapped in that building.  Her dryer wasn't the one that caught on fire, ours was. I had to wonder what articles of clothing or linens I was about to lose. 

Why all this mess, all these emergency vehicles?  Why was I doing so much laundry?

One bedbug.

We have only seen evidence of one bedbug in our house, but it was obviously biting our friend who was staying on our futon at the time.  The only evidence of said bedbug living in the bed was in one pillow.  We promptly threw all of our pillows away.  We've washed, we've sprayed.  Every day brings more washing, more vacuuming.  It's physically and mentally exhausting.  I am worrying if they will never be gone. 

We hauled every piece of launderable fabric in our house to the laundromat on Saturday, thinking we could get it all done in one sitting.  It would have been possible had one of our dryers not burst our laundry into flames.  I've never seen a group of people LESS panicked about a fire.  Matt was running around looking for water and fire extinguishers while the other people went about their business, mostly getting annoyed that their laundry wasn't getting done.

Seeing as how all of the dryers were gas dryers, we probably all should have been a little more concerned about the spinning inferno we had created on the back wall.  (Author's Note:  The Spinning Inferno is totally the name of my new band and/or horror movie script.)  I lost one of my favorite skirts, a couple of work tops that I liked, some socks, a pillow cover from Ikea, a sheet.  The laundromat owner took our phone numbers, just in case insurance needed to talk to us or something. 

I shake my fist at those little buggy bastards.  You know, I like cuddling in bed, but not with blood-sucking insects.  I can't think about them without itching.  I can't think about cleaning my house or spraying or anything without getting really tired.  Bedbugs suck so bad.  My stress level is high and so are my blood sugar levels.  I would never wish this on anyone.

And if you have had bedbugs at your place before, what did you do to get rid of them?  

Thursday, April 5, 2012

"I am so high right now."

It's a difficult feeling to experience.  Between the crankiness and the extreme fatigue comes the guilt.

I should have paid better attention to my numbers today.

I should have tested more today.
 
I could have changed my infusion site earlier.  

I shouldn't have eaten [insert "forbidden" food here] at all, let alone that much of it.

I wonder if my insulin went bad, and I didn't even think to check.

I should be getting something productive accomplished but I feel like shit.

I could be sitting here and relaxing, but no, my vision is a bit blurry and so I'm getting a headache while trying to drink water, waiting for insulin to kick in and watching TV.  And now I worry about my eyes.  Great.

I catalog all the reasons I have disappointed myself, my family, my loved ones, anyone who shares my life and living space.  I stop and feel guilty about feeling guilty.  I'm 30 years old.  Shouldn't someone have cured this nonsense by now?  Shouldn't I know exactly how to handle everything?  Shouldn't I remember to test more often?

I am not Diabetes Wonder Woman.  I have not perfected the art of doing it all/having it all/maintaining a great A1C while doing so.  However, maybe I am a bit super.  Nearly infinite in patience with myself, always trying to look on the bright side, always hoping that things are moving in a positive direction.

But it's hard.  It's hard when the numbers seem to be telling me something that I already know.  Sometimes the numbers are threatening.  Sometimes the numbers are harmless.  There are days I'm pretty sure blood glucose meters exist primarily to make me feel bad about myself.   No matter how vigilant I am, it sometimes feels like when I attempt to live like a regular person, I am always on the wrong side of 100.  It's 160 and climbing, or it's 70 and dropping. 

It's difficult work.  It's exhausting. 

It's me wondering why I don't have a gallon jug of spring water at my beck and call for these sticky dry mouth occasions.  It's imagining my blood is slowly sludging through my veins, like dyed-red corn syrup.  That's what they use for blood in the movies. 

It's knowing tomorrow is another day, and now is another correction bolus.  It's the belief that on the other side of that correction bolus is a less-tired, happier version of myself.  You know, the one who was hanging around before my stupid infusion set sprung a leak.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Wordless Wednesday: Why Grow Up?

I am 30. My husband and many of my friends are right around the same age. So what happens when you take people of this age and put them in a room with two almost-five year olds?

Suddenly, Legos.
Is it actually bigger on the inside? If you use your imagination it is! (And for those of you who are less geeky than some of us, this is a TARDIS from Doctor Who. You just need to know that it allows you to travel through space & time.)
Hello Kitty parks her car in this pagoda-inspired garage that I made. She gets some green energy credits by having that tree on the top.