iStockphoto

Three days, or until the insulin is all used up - that is how long an OmniPod is to be worn for. Before pumping, I was unsure if the scheduled three day replacement interval was going to be a nuisance. I even pondered the idea of trying to sneak in an extra day on the pods- so long as there was enough insulin stowed away in them. Well, that notion, along with a little of my patience, consistently scurries away when I near the end of a pod cycle, and the three day itch sets in. (READ MORE)

"Break! Break!" Charlie screams, a blue vein bulging from his neck. Susanne has Charlie over her lap and has barely begun pulling the edge of the tape when Charlie begs for a break, warm tears filling his eyes.

So much of Charlie's routine has gotten easier over time. Shots were very difficult in the beginning. He hated it. But eventually, it got better - his squirminess lessened. He'd just lean over, grit his teeth and exhale when it was over.

Site changes, on the other hand, have only gotten worse with time. Charlie's latest site change was awful. Seems like the bigger he gets, the bigger his resistance to it is. (READ MORE)

It took us just short of a year, but we finally discovered the right time of day to change Charlie's infusion set.

From the start of our pump training, we were instructed to change his site in the mornings. Before bed was not recommended for fear of low blood sugars.

So, we did as told.

And for months, Charlie's blood sugars were extremely high for a good part of the morning and into the early afternoon on site change days.

Our doctors weren't sure what to make of it. We all theorized that it was the stress of the site change sending him out of the stratosphere. Seemed to be a good enough explanation. He did absolutely flip out with site changes. The hope was that he would eventually not stress so much with the site changes and the blood sugar levels would fall into place.

Never happened and never happened. (READ MORE)

"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)

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.

  (READ MORE)

If there's anything those of us with diabetes know, it's that we have to be flexible. Blood sugar levels and blood sugar maintenance equipment and medications take a lot of brain power and we are often at their mercy.

Which is why I'm up at 11 p.m. -- one solid hour after my bedtime -- writing this post. The house was actually quiet for once. The Mr. had gone to bed early, the kids were in bed, I had made lunches for tomorrow and done the dishes. I sat down to watch a little of the Olympics, enjoying the semi-silence; before I knew it it was 10:30 p.m.

  (READ MORE)