D-Blog Week: Diabetes Bloopers (From Abby)
Abby's Take on D-Blog Week, Day Three:
While sitting here thinking about my bloopers, and I am quickly realizing most of them concern my pump. So pumpy, I’m sorry, for all that I have put you and your mom-pump and gradmom-pump through.
One time I got into my mom’s car so quickly that I didn’t realize my pump had fallen out of my pocket. The tubing/site combination was conveniently located so that the pump sat right where the door meets the car. You guessed it, big ol’ smash-a-roo. My green Minimed 508 came out of that debacle with only a crack but had to be replaced anyway. Whoops.
And then there were all those times I forgot my pump. Now, I know what you’re saying. “How could you possibly forget your pump??” Let me tell you, it’s easier than you’d think. I always took my pump off during dance class and cheer practice, unless I had been running high or we were having less-active practices. This lead to many phone calls back to the studio/gym/school asking if they’d found my pump and if so to keep it safe for me until I got there. My dance teacher in college actually got to the point where she reminded me before I left to make sure I had it with me.
Embarrassing, but thank goodness for her, because it was a long trek to my dorm room from the studio in those cold Vermont winters.
I also distinctly remember one time in high school when my family and I went up to Lake George on a Thursday night to watch fireworks and get ice cream. Left pumpy on my bed for that one. Didn’t realize it until halfway through a small soft-serve cone. Double whoops.
Even though my pump currently dons a zebra print skin sticker from skin-it (which I got for free from camp because I refuse to pay $15 for a piece of fancy duct-tape with designs on it), my pumpies have seen less attractive days. Interesting choices including, but not limited to, nail polish, my name in sharpies, a sticker version of a picture of me and my 10th grade boyfriend, a collage of tiny stickers at camp thanks to my nurse-friend who I think majored in pump decorating in college, and the collection of neoprene zip-up cases I had in middle school to match every outfit/costume/uniform I ever wore.
Then there was that time I fully corrected a 370something at 10pm with no symptoms, and 15 minutes later was 45. Probably should’ve triple checked that weird high reading, rather than spending the night with small doses of glucagon and PB&J sandwiches.
How about when I forgot to bolus LAST WEEK for dinner. Yep, even after thirteen years, I forget I have diabetes.
In conclusion: diabetes bloopers are funny, but only in hindsight.
(This post is part of the Second Annual D-Blog Week. To participate, check out the details on Karen's blog! And thanks, as always, to Karen for organizing such a great advocacy effort.)