Multifamily Utility

It took me nearly two months to finally get a solid range of good blood sugar numbers. Many checks would have me hovering in the 200's, only to be followed by a bottomed out low caused by a flagrant over-correction. The devil is in the details when it comes to pumping and I started out with the wrong details! (READ MORE)

godesia

Christmas means joy. Christmas means tales of sugar plums dancing in children's heads. Christmas means Christmas dresses.

This past holiday was my first pumping Christmas, which meant learning how to "graze" and square bolus at all the parties, how to watch for trends from "holiday stress" and how to buy a Christmas dress fit for a pump.

Typically, finding a dress is hard enough. I'll try on one hundred to find one. Some are too fancy, some are the wrong color, some are just ugh! But never has one been unfit for a pump. Until this Christmas.
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Tidbit number one: I almost deleted the message because it sounded like a salesman. We get those calls sometimes--you know, people who leave messages for products or services. I really wonder if they really think they'll get calls back. Anyway, so it actually was a salesman and I still almost deleted it, but then I heard the keywords: Dr. C asked me to give you a call. Then I realized he said he was from Medtronic. So the three "I really hope you're having a good day" comments were part of his sales pitch. Ugh. This is how it starts. I hate being sold to. I mean, if you mask it well, then I guess I'm OK with it, but if you're going to sell me something and you're going to kiss my ass the whole time then I, frankly, don't want to hear it. I'm seriously thinking about telling him upfront, "Dude, don't talk to me like a customer. Talk to me like you're trying to convince your brother to buy your brand of pump. (READ MORE)

"This," I said to my mom while pointing to the table full of mid-afternoon party food, "is exactly the kind of situation where I would really benefit from having a pump."

We were in my brother's dining room at his daughter's first-birthday party. The spread included crackers with an amazing cream cheese and pesto dip, mini chicken salad croissant sandwiches, fresh fruit, potato chips and dip and fresh veggies. To the untrained eye, there wasn't much that I should have stayed away from, but in reality there was just about nothing that didn't require insulin.

Mom looked a little confused. "But you'd still have to count carbs," she said.

"Well, yeah, of course," I said. "But that's not really the reason the pump would be so beneficial. I could eat and not have to excuse myself to take a shot."

She nodded in understanding. (READ MORE)

I started logging again on Sunday. Sunday's logs weren't all filled out, but I was diligent about it yesterday. For the first time in a very, very long time, I had an entire day of blood sugars and food on paper.

It felt good enough that I continued this morning (insert uncontrollable sarcastic laughing here). OK so it's not that bad. I am a bit nervous, though, about how long it will last. The logging, I mean; not the laughter. (READ MORE)

Last week when I emailed my human resources rep about how to interpret the information I got from customer service about what is covered in regard to an insulin pump, the last thing I expected to hear was that as of Jan. 1 we'd have a new insurance company.

I really didn't think much of the insurance switch at the time. In fact, I never really have had such a vested interest in my insurance company until now. The biggest obstacle I saw when S. told me of the switch was that I might not get the same deal on an insulin pump as the customer service guy told me I could get. (READ MORE)