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We found 9 result(s) that match your search "Pump scars":

I talked to Olivia again about going off the pump and she's adamant about wanting to do it.  We were changing her site because, once again, the site she'd had in got infected. She only keeps a site in for 2 days, but they often seem to get red and irritated. We use antiseptic wipes before inserting them - I don't know if she's just sensitive or if we're doing something wrong or what, but she's sick of it. I don't blame her; after looking at her stomach and arms, she's got a lot of ugly, raised white  bumps, especially on her belly. We rotate sites all the time and go pretty far out on to her sides, but the scars just don't seem to go away.

 

I don't know if there's anything that can be used to get rid of the scars or if she's stuck with them forever.  I just know they really bother her. 

 

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Diabetes is a very physical disease. It loves to leave behind marks to show it was there. The strange "tells," "war wounds," and "evidence" that this disease is wreaking havoc on my body both internally and externally.

 

The easiest sign of diabetes is the calluses on my fingertips. They've been my biggest complaint with this disease (physically at least) since I can remember. I hate the way they mar my fingers with their tiny spots and uneven edges. It never can be skin against skin, smooth and simple. When I run my hands over anything, I feel the tips of my fingers drop their tiny hints of this disease.

 

As if my fingertips weren't beaten enough, my body has all the signs of needles and insertions. I have bruises galore. Plus the tiny red spots from infusion sites and syringes. And every three months, there's the bruise of getting blood drawn on the crease of my arm.

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This morning, getting ready for work. I looked at the scattering of dots on my thighs from old pump sites. And then I wrote this...

 

We test, we write it down - we test, we store results - we test, we examine results - we test, we make decisions about what to do next.

 

 

We eat, we calculate - we eat, we guess - we eat, we dose - we eat, we hold our breath and hope we've done everything right.

 

We take our medication, we adjust our doses - we take our medication, we wonder if it's the very best medicine for us - we take our medication, we hope that it serves our body well - we take our medication, and wait for the next big advance.

 

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There's a Band Aid on my tummy. A small, flexible-fabric Band Aid.

 

Underneath is neosporin, which is covering up my last pump site. I've never used neosporin -- or a Band Aid -- after pulling a site.

 

That site had been itchy for about a day. I knew it was (over)due for a change, but I had so little insulin in my pump that I didn't want to do two "site changes" back to back.

 

I primed my pump this morning and was preparing to quick-sert the set when I glanced at my soon-to-be-old site. It looked like my skin had been sucked up into the set. I usually leave the old set in for several hours, but this one I quickly ripped out.

 

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Olivia is starting to look like a pin cushion. Her stomach is a mass of red marks, scars and bumps. It's not pretty. She refuses to wear a bikini or half shirt because of how her stomach looks (not that this bothers me, mind you!).

The problem we're currently having is that she's got so much scar tissue built up that she's running out of real estate for her sites. She currently uses her arms, her stomach and her lower back.

I'm sure some of you will suggest thigh sites, but she has really bad luck with those. Thigh sites generally make her rollercoaster - she'll be in the 400s in the afternoon and by dinner, be in the 60s. It's bizarre. I've tracked it and she's not over-bolusing or over eating. I think it's an absorption thing. She's got meaty thighs (she can thank me for that one). I don't know if that makes a difference or not; regardless, thigh sites just don't do it.
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I have two eyes. 

 

I have ten fingers. 

 

I have two legs.  And two thighs. 

 

I have one insulin pump.   

 

I have about fifteen blood glucose meters.  

 

When I was a little kid, my mother used to tell my brothers and me to stop counting.  What she meant was to stop looking at how many cookies someone else got, or how many toys someone else had, or how much money someone else got in their allowance - and comparing it to what we had.  She would say "when you count what others have, and compare, it's easy to forget what YOU DO have."  

 

Sound advice.

 

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Last week when I suggested that the diabetes community design an awareness symbol akin to the breast cancer campaign's pink ribbon, I apparently hit a nerve with someone.

Nordtorp says he's not into the secret handshake thing and that ribbons and pins don’t make a difference. He doesn't think that wearing a trinket will cause more money to be funnelled into diabetes research.

I have to say that I whole-heartedly disagree. If someone asked you what are the major illnesses -- chronic or otherwise -- that affect the U.S. population, would the common person identify diabetes as one of them? Without a connection to diabetes, I doubt it. Does the common person even really understand what diabetes is? Not many.

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For the past two weeks or so, my blood sugars have been running high. I had lowered my basals when I came back to school because I was having too many lows with my new schedule. I'm guessing that the basals need to be raised again since I've slowly adjusted to the schedule and I'm hitting exam times so my stress is increased.

 

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