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First, let me tell you that I used my very last sensor in February, and didn't even get a full life out of it. I decided to try to different spot on my belly and it wound up being a crap spot because the readings would come in sketchy and after about twoish days I realized most of the adhesive had come off. So I begrudgingly yanked it.

 

But I was in the midst of fighting my insurance company for coverage of my sensors and I was certain that the situation would be resolved soon and that it wouldn't be long until I had replacement sensors. And then one day, like magic, I got word that the sensors were covered. It was like an enormous weight was gone.

 

I quickly took care of the other weight on my shoulders: paying my deductible from the last batch of pump supplies I received. Medtronic said I only needed to pay it in full before I ordered supplies again so I was taking my time.

 

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I don't think I've ever been more undecided about a health-care issue than I am right now.
 

To DexCom or not to DexCom?
 

Last week, I wrote that I was up in arms about my insurance company saying it wouldn't pay for the DexCom sensors because my policy doesn't have "disposable coverage" and that I was going to fight for the coverage. Today has been a pretty good day, and I've been thinking that I don't really need a CGMS.
 

I know, that's totally weird coming from someone who has been saying for months how beneficial the system would be to my life.
 

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A kink already.

 

I told Mom this morning about my new schedule. The one where my retired mother doesn't have to get up so early any more to be to my house by 7:15 a.m. to take care of the kids before school so The Mr. and I can get to work on time. She loved it, by the way. Also because she knows I need and want to exercise.

 

Not long after she left the house, though, she called to remind me that my plan to start my new schedule on Monday (I hate starting on Mondays) may need to be rethunk. (rethinked? reconsidered?) No. 1 and No. 2 start their two-week spring break on Monday and they are going to day camp. Camp that's on *my* way to work. Camp that *I* was planning to drop them off at around 7 a.m. on my way to work. Camp that I'm not sure I can convince The Mr. to take them to because it's slightly out of his way and will require him to give up driving his motorcycle to work for two weeks.

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Topic 1: 

It's like the CGMS people were in my space today. I sent a text message to my Dexcom rep this morning (because he seems to respond better to a text than a phone call) to see if he could give me some information about my insurance company's new policy regarding CGMS. I didn't hear from him (no surprise), but I did get an e-mail from the nurse who is working on my behalf to see what the *&%$ is up with this disposable coverage crap.

 

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While we were in the process of moving from the Midwest to the desert, my mom kept saying, "The sun is different here."

 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever," I thought. How could it really be that different from Missouri to Phoenix? From Canada to the equator I understand, but straight west and slightly south?

 

She wasn't kidding. Even when it's cool -- or cold (yes, it does happen!) -- outside, the inside of my car bakes. The brightness is insane even when it's overcast. My skin has gotten pink as if it were slightly sunburned while I had clothes over that portion of my skin.

 

For a long time I've had trouble seeing in the dark. Trying to see street signs at night is difficult, movies that are visually dark are a challenge for me to watch, even with my prescription glasses on I prefer to be close to things I'm reading or watching.

 

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Wow, what a storm that was started recently on my co-bloggers page. I have the utmost respect for you Michelle and your passion, writing ability, your life and even your disgust with diabetes when you wrote that blog. Please know this. I HAVE WRITTEN these types in the past too (when I was off). But you, and all the people that commented on your blog who, too, agree’d with your sentiment of “hating diabetes”, could not have proved a point with any clearer of an example of how out of touch we get with ourselves and life from time to time. This is ok, this is normal. It happens. But what you do with it when your faced with it, is what makes the difference and what can take you from a life of peace, or heaven, and true existence - to a place of hell, or unbalance, or non-peace.

 

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It sounded like the ideal situation. One phone call and all my diabeetus testing supplies and medicine would be delivered straight to my door. No last minute trips the the pharmacy. No paying out of pocket to be reimbursed later. Everything would be taken care of with one quick phone call.

I fell for it in September. Like most relationships, it started out nicely. Three or four "quick" phone calls and they promptly delivered a three month supply of test strips and an equal number of lancets. And for a girl who only changes her lancets when we change the clocks (and only if I remember to that week), I now have a 600 year supply of lancets in my closet.

At the time, they were also supposed to send a three month supply of insulin. It still has not arrived. Five or six phone calls later, they tell me they are still waiting on my doctor to return their call.

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Today is the 6th Annual D-Blog Day and in some ways, I'm stymied by the topic: Gina has proposed we all do a 12" x 12" scrapbook page. Growing up, a scrapbook was a shoelace-tied book of heavy vellum-colored Manilla paper to which one pasted telegrams, newspaper clippings, greeting cards, and the like. In theory, one scrapbook could last a lifetime; in reality, the pages started falling out about five years in, and we always had to be careful not to lose either the pages or the stuff glued on to them. My mother's scrapbook has telegrams of congratulations from relatives who couldn't make her wedding and a guest-card with the lyrics to "Bei Mir Bist Du Shane", telegrams of congratulations when my sister and I were born, and newspaper clippings from every time one or another of us was mentioned in the local newspaper. (READ MORE)

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Yesterday when I left work I was ready to rip through the computer because I was so annoyed with a certain medical supply company.
 

I have taken a backseat to figuring out if my insurance company will cover my Dexcom sensors since I got involved with a company (paid for by my employer) who helps patients sort through these types of situations. I believe my rep is also a nurse, because she is quite often out of the office. So when I'd send casual emails if I hadn't heard from her, I frequently got an auto response saying she was out of the office. This kind of annoyed me, actually.

 

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Sometimes, real life hands me topics for posts and pleasure, and sometimes, there are "soapbox" issues on which I feel I must speak out. Often the "issues" arise from my being a "pattern thinker": I synthesize information by finding patterns. This means I often see patterns where others don't -- but that doesn't mean the patterns are real. Just like I need to analyze blood glucose logs to make sure that pattern of highs and lows I think I'm seeing is real, I need to research and observe to see if other patterns I think I'm seeing are real, or just my subjective impressions.

 

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