Just Another Morning.
Wake up with a start as the alarm begins to blare,
Groggily come to and push aside my mussed-up hair.
Reach out to the nightstand and retrieve the zipper case,
Fumble with a strip and finally get the thing in place.
Lance my finger, squeeze a bit, and for five seconds wait,
Hear the beep, watch the screen, and see the "108."
Disconnect the pump with a quick and easy snap,
Grab that little plastic thing that I call a "pump cap."
Bring the Dexcom with me and connect it to the door
So I can shower, get all clean, and data will still store.
Towel dry - so careful, watching for the set and sensor,
Grab my robe and reconnect to the insulin dispenser.
Blow dry hair, drag a comb, and make attempts to dress,
Aim for outfits that conceal my pump with learned finesse.
Make my lunch and grab some snacks, minding carb-y grams -
Greek yogurt, green beans, protein bars - my morning snack grand slam.
Throw it all into my bag - I just have one more thing to add!
Toss in a tube of glucose tabs for all the lows this week I've had.
Snake the pump tube down my leg, tuck the pump inside
The trouser socks I love to wear - perfect for pump to hide.
Check the Dexcom to see for sure that I'm okay to drive,
Pet the cats, throw on my coat, and I'm out the door in five.
So much is diabetes, but it isn't my whole life.
I'm a daughter with type 1; I'm a diabetic wife.
It's in the fabric of my day, in the subconcious of my mind.
It explains so much of what I do, but I am not defined.