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Olivia asked me last night when she was going to have her next appointment at Joslin. I wasn't sure, but told her it should be coming up soon. (Must check into that, actually.) She said she wanted to ask the doctor something. When I asked her what she wanted to know, she said she wanted to talk about alternate site testing.

We've done this in the past, without much success. But looking at her fingers last night, I told her she really needed to try again. Her fingertips are mangled - they're covered with black dots and she said they really, really hurt.

Part of the problem is that she tests right on the pads of her fingers rather than on the sides. The endo has told her repeatedly to stop doing that, but Olivia doesn't listen. Now, though, she's having a lot of pain and she's going to have to do that.
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Olivia asked me last night when she was going to have her next appointment at Joslin. I wasn't sure, but told her it should be coming up soon. (Must check into that, actually.) She said she wanted to ask the doctor something. When I asked her what she wanted to know, she said she wanted to talk about alternate site testing.

We've done this in the past, without much success. But looking at her fingers last night, I told her she really needed to try again. Her fingertips are mangled - they're covered with black dots and she said they really, really hurt.

Part of the problem is that she tests right on the pads of her fingers rather than on the sides. The endo has told her repeatedly to stop doing that, but Olivia doesn't listen. Now, though, she's having a lot of pain and she's going to have to do that.
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I knew that walking around the huge Texas airport carrying two pieces of luggage would be strenuous. I also knew that the stress of making a flight and worrying about forgetting things would be a factor. So I lowered my basal by two increments about an hour before hitting the airport.

 

When we finally made it to the terminal, I checked in at 150. Perfect. I wanted to run a little higher than normal to avoid a low. I didn't bolus and kept my basals the same.

 

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I tend to get the best absorption from pump sites smack dab in the middle of my abdomen. Say, within a several-inch radius of my belly button. It's kind of odd, actually, since I used my love handles exclusively when I was on shots.

 

Several times since Toohey and I hooked up (such a bad, bad pun) I have tried to use my hip/love handle for a site. Partly because I know it's good to rotate and partly because often the real estate around my belly button is taken up. However, the two times I can remember using a hip site, I had to rip it out before its time was up because my numbers were so terrible.

 

So I was having trouble lately figuring out how to be able to use my hips and other areas of my body. I know, this shouldn't be rocket science, but it really did take me a while to figure out that all I had to do was gradually move my sites outward instead of yanking them miles across my body.

 

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"Did it hurt real bad?"
"It burned," Charlie said. "It felt like I was on fire."
"Do you think mommy and daddy want to hurt you?"
Charlie nods in the affirmative.
"That would be really mean; like really evil. Do you think mommy and daddy are evil?"
He nods up and down again, dipping his waffle in a small bowl of sugar-free syrup.
The slight smirk tells me he doesn't truly believe that, but it sucks to hear that from your child nonetheless.
That was this morning. Last night we took Charlie to hell and back with two site changes. The first site change was so absolutely horrendous that we just HAD to do it again, the monsters that we are. (READ MORE)

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"Did it hurt real bad?"
"It burned," Charlie said. "It felt like I was on fire."
"Do you think mommy and daddy want to hurt you?"
Charlie nods in the affirmative.
"That would be really mean; like really evil. Do you think mommy and daddy are evil?"
He nods up and down again, dipping his waffle in a small bowl of sugar-free syrup.
The slight smirk tells me he doesn't truly believe that, but it sucks to hear that from your child nonetheless.
That was this morning. Last night we took Charlie to hell and back with two site changes. The first site change was so absolutely horrendous that we just HAD to do it again, the monsters that we are. (READ MORE)

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"Did it hurt real bad?"
"It burned," Charlie said. "It felt like I was on fire."
"Do you think mommy and daddy want to hurt you?"
Charlie nods in the affirmative.
"That would be really mean; like really evil. Do you think mommy and daddy are evil?"
He nods up and down again, dipping his waffle in a small bowl of sugar-free syrup.
The slight smirk tells me he doesn't truly believe that, but it sucks to hear that from your child nonetheless.
That was this morning. Last night we took Charlie to hell and back with two site changes. The first site change was so absolutely horrendous that we just HAD to do it again, the monsters that we are. (READ MORE)

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So I was at work the other day and one of my co-workers and I had the, "diabetes talk". Let's just say she acted as if she knew all about diabetes. I was sitting there humoring her as she dove into topics of nutrition, exercise, and stress. And right as I was about to completely tune her out and continue what I was doing, she caught my attention with a few words that I HAD NEVER heard associated with diabetes. Chromium Picolinate.
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The crinkled tape and vibrant red-tinged tubing looks like leftover materials from an ancient bloodletting. Charlie's battered behind gets just a moment's rest before a new site is gored into his skin.
The pump does a lot of fantastic things. According to Charlie, if you press the up arrow three times while holding down the bolus button, you can create an impenetrable blue glowing force field. Up arrow four times while holding down bolus can obliterate the High School Musical poster on his sister's wall with a single, powerful laser blast. Me? I like the ease in which we can fine-tune and tweak. I like that he doesn't have to be 200 all night. We can punch in just a dash of insulin to drop him to a safe 150. (READ MORE)

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When to tell?

 

I have accepted a new job. It's in a new city (half way across the country!!). It's with new people. New people who don't know that I have diabetes.

 

It was during my four-year tenure at my current job that I was diagnosed. I had no problem telling just about everyone in my very small office about diabetes. I already knew them and their personalities.

 

It's different now. I have a problem with going in to the boss on my first day and saying, "Hey, guess what..." I also have a problem with waiting three months until my benefits kick in, or even longer when someone sees me checking my sugar (or doesn't know what to do if I pass out) to say, "Oh, yeah, maybe I should have told you sooner."

 

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