Category Archives: Personal
“I don’t see any diabetes in those eyes,”
the doctor said.
Which was reassuring, in a way….
…but also unsettling.
Diabetes really doesn’t affect me emotionally all that much – I’m just lucky that way. Sure, it does harbor occasional rousings of resentment, elements of embarrassment, and feelings of frustration (it may also be responsible for my overall timidness and reluctance to take chances in life – a connection I just realized this past weekend), but none of that qualifies me to really discuss the power of emotions that a faulty pancreas can deliver, and I don’t want to seem to trivialize the issue – which is a very real one. So I won’t even try.
But that’s not to say there isn’t stress in putting myself out in public, on the internet, for the world to see (or read).
Every so often, we get a glimpse of what may be on the horizon. The things that researchers are working on, that might — someday — have the potential to possibly improve the lives of people with diabetes.
I used to get excited over every little bit of news. Everything new. But then something changed. Perhaps I’ve become cynical. Or fearful. Or pessimistic.
Some of these new developments just don’t excite me anymore. Yet others do.
The Artificial/Bionic/Bi-Hormonal Pancreas. In all its iterations…
My “current” vial of insulin gets stored, wrapped in a paper towel, stuffed in a Ziploc snack-sized bag, and tucked in my emergency/all-purpose pencil-case diabetes travel bag.
That way, it’s always with me, my emergency-supply stays current and unexpired, and it doesn’t shatter if the bag gets smacked around a bit (as it’s prone to do.)
On Saturday morning, I did a combo infusion set/sensor change. With all the trash this process generated (incidentally, Enlite and Mio are the #1 and #2 offenders, respectively, when it comes to destroying the planet), I must have swept my one-quarter-full vial of Novolog in the wastebucket along with all of the other stuff..
I just realized this on Sunday night. That vial is probably sitting out in the can by the curb, nestled comfortably between some eggshells, dryer lint, and dirty diapers. And unfortunately, that’s where it will stay.
Hopefully, my insurance company will understand.
I was lying next to my son Jay (the older one, age seven), reading him a story before bed. My blood sugar was already on the low side, and I had chomped a couple of glucose tablets and set my temporary basal to zero just a few minutes before. The CGM read sixty-six. My preset threshold is sixty-five. I didn’t want it to happen.
But in the middle of a paragraph about whitewater rafting through Australia, it did.