About 90% of the time, I do not mind wearing an insulin pump.
Yes, of course, I would much prefer to be cured of this disease and I don't enjoy the day-to-day maintenance of a chronic condition, but for me, pumping these past four years has been far superior to multiple injections. I can hide it in the folds of my clothes. I can disconnect for exercise, intimacy, and beachin' it. And it delivers my insulin with a precision and stealth unrivaled by my orange-capped syringes.
However, the past few days have been holy hell.
Instead of sticking the infusion set on my thigh, like I usually do, I opted to give my legs a rest and revert back to my abdomen. I originally started using my thighs because I thought stomach sites burned and felt like fire in my sensitive, nerve-riddled skin. I liked having the tubing snaking down my leg instead of jutting out from underneath my shirts, and I preferred to have my infusion set nested on my out-of-the-way leg instead of my front-and-center abdomen.
But, in the interests of site rotation and absorption tests, I stuck the site in my stomach and went about my merry way. Unfortunately, it was far less merry than usual.
The site is currently about three inches to the right of my naval, about two inches down. While wearing sweat pants, this site location is not an issue because the waistband of the pants rests about two inches below the site. HOWEVER. The waistband of my jeans rest, with precision, where the infusion set sits, rubbing and pressing and making the site incredibly sore. Every time my arm brushes against it, here on its third day, it's as though the cannula has made its home in a pile of ultra-sensitive nerves.
We're out at dinner the other night, and one big laugh had me squirming because the site had caught against the edge of my pants. Driving home to RI was entirely uncomfortable because my seatbelt was snug against the bulge of the site. Every bolus has a bit of a burn to it. The sweater I wore to work today shows the faint outline of the infusion hub orbiting near my naval. Even sleeping has me rolling over, folding my arm underneath myself, and mashing up against the site.
For the last three days, that infusion set has gone from "something I barely notice" to "alien in my belly." An alien in my belly has been a bit of a startling enterprise, to say the least.
I admire people who can do a full site rotation, hitting places like their rear ends, their arms, and even their breasts. (Note: I will never, ever use my breast as an infusion set site. I cannot imagine that kind of ouch.) But I officially hate the belly sites. I can't stand them. I feel like a stubborn kid, crossing my arms over my chest and pouting, "No more belly sites. I'm going home."
So, in efforts to be more of a grown-up, I'm going to give an arm site a pass. Once I'm home from the gym and neat and clean from the shower, I'll be trying out the back of my left arm as a home for my infusion set. You guys have given me the confidence I needed to at least give it a whirl.
If an alien takes up residence in my arm, I'll be back to legs by Friday.