So yesterday I went to the orthopedist for this wrist mess.

I was all, "I've been wearing the brace and I stopped lifting at the gym and have generally been taking it as light as I can, but no improvement."

And he was all, "Well, we looked at your x-rays from today and your radial and ulna bones are in perfect position, so it does appear to be a tendon issue and not a bone issue."

And I was all, "That's good, right?"

And he was all, "Yeah.  So let's talk about options.  We can move with the brace for another month, or you can do physical therapy, or you can do surgery."

And I was all, "Hmm.  Well the brace isn't helping yet.  And I don't want surgery.  Let's do a cortisone shot and follow up with physical therapy?"

And he was all, "You're an educated patient.  Okay, we'll do a very small shot today and see how that works for you."

So I sat down in a chair in his office and he moved a small table towards me for me to prop my elbow up on.  He left for a minute and then returned with a small bottle, a cotton swap and injection prep wipe, and a massive needle.

And I was all, "Whoa, that's a big needle.  Do you put the whole thing in?  That would come right out the other side of my hand!"

And he was all, "But you do needles every day, don't you?  This should be okay with you."  

And I was all, "Irony, eh?  I hate needles that I'm not controlling.  And that mega-needle?  Scares me."

And my blood in my face was all draining, so I looked white as a sheet.

He was all, "You're going a little pale on me.  Are you okay?"  He swabbed my wrist and shifted my arm around until the proper injection area was exposed.

And I was all, "I'm okay, I'm just not going to watch, okay?"

He nodded.  And the needle was all of a sudden embedded into my wrist and the pressure of the cortisone being injected made me squirm instantly.

I was all, "Ow."

He was all, "Just a few more seconds and I'll be done.  And ... you're done.  You okay?  Do you need to lie down?"

And I was all badass:  "Nah, I'm good.  I'm just going to sit here for a minute while you explain what happens next and I pretend to listen fully despite the pain."  I smiled.  But winced.  Sort of at the same time. 

And he was all, "Elevated numbers for a few days ... increase basals with your endo's help ... keep wearing the brace ... it's going to hurt where I did the shot tomorrow, but you should feel real improvement by about this time next week ... if you don't, we'll want to do that physical therapy and consider maybe another shot depending on how you feel ... you'll be okay ... hey, are you okay?"

And my color was all returning, but slowly.  We finished up, and I tested.  155 mg/dl.  Okay, a little higher than the 114 mg/dl I walked into the doctor's office at, but it must have been a stress bump.  I didn't want to fool with my basals until I was sure that the cortisone would make me high, so I waited a few hours before doing some tweaking

In the course of six hours, I went from 155 to a steady stream of 190 - 240 mg/dl numbers.  I tested for ketones and - low and behold! - the little stick went light purple on me.  Small ketones, prolonged highs, and the pain from the actual shot set in around 8:45 pm.  This morning, I woke up at 213 mg/dl and even after an aggressive bolus, I'm still cruising in that general range.  Basals have since been cranked to 150% and I'm both wearing the Dexcom and testing every hour.

The ketone thing is what's throwing me for a loop.  I hardly ever throw ketones - why now?  I drank a lot of water, ate some carbs, and still had the ketones this morning.  (Poor Chris - I asked him to test himself for ketones because I was convinced the Ketostix weren't working right.  He was all, "Um, I'm negative."  And I was all, "At least I like the color purple.  Blaaaargh.... ")

I hope this was the right decision.  I'm desperate for my wrist to heal.  The doctor said this pain and the highs could go on for 3 - 7 days.   

And I was all, "This sucks."

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 10:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (22) | TrackBacks (0)

My health management plan is both proactive and reactive.  I am proactive by taking steps every day to not only be healthy for 24 hours, but for decades to come.  I understand that monitoring, eating healthy, exercising, and seeing my medical team often helps keep my diabetes tuned up and keeps me tuned in.  I understand that efforts now will hopefully keep me healthier later. 

I'm reactive to my blood sugar bounces, testing as often as I can and responding with insulin, exercise, food, or some dizzingly varying combination of both.  I'm reactive to any aches and pains that pop up unexpectedly, like a wrist pain or an ocular migraine. 

It's good for me to be both proactive and reactive.  This mentality helps keep my health, though already slightly compromised by a diabetes diagnosis that was out of my control, at the best level I can achieve.

On paper, and in my mind, I'm a "good patient."  Trying to be, anyway.

So why are so many "good patients" broke?

Being proactive with healthcare isn't part of the natural American view of health.  American patients seem to be penalized for staying on top of their conditions.  For example, I had a dental cleaning on Monday.  My second one this year.  Both my dentist, my primary care physician, and my endocrinologist have told me that good dental health is crucial not only to my diabetes management but to my overall health.  So, on their recommendation, I have three - four cleanings a year.

Yet only two are covered by insurance.  So on Monday, I paid $105 out of pocket and unreimburseable to my dentist's office.  This doesn't make me frustrated with my dentist, but with the healthcare system that would be more inclined to have my teeth drilled than cleaned.  Yet, I'll keep doing this because it's what's best for my health.

And today, I went to the orthopedist to have my wrist examined.  And the doctor - very nice guy with a good bedside manner - examined my wrist and after about a minute with me, recommended a wrist brace, xrays, a cortisone shot, and surgery.  In that order.

"Even though I'm 99% sure I'm not pregnant, I am not on the pill and am only using barrier methods of birth control.  Can the xrays wait until I'm positive I'm not pregnant?"

"Sure.  We can wait for the shot for then, too.  And we can discuss surgery at that time as well.  You can come in really quickly next week once you're sure you aren't pregnant and we can do the xrays.  It will take three minutes and you'll be on your way."

"Okay.  Thanks.  So will I be charged for a copay next week, then?"

"Yes.  Of course."

"Wait, really?  Even though it should be part of this visit?  No one mentioned xrays to me over the phone, and even if it was something I should have anticipated, I didn't.  So now I'm being charged double for being proactively cautious and protective of a potential but highly unlikely pregnancy?"

"Well, yes.  Unfortunately.  I have to charge you for next week's visit, no matter how short.  Otherwise, it would be insurance fraud.  And we can discuss surgery, as well."

Great.  So now I'll be out $50 for what should have been one visit for only $25.  I'll be charged extra for xrays and potentially a cortisone shot, but the surgery would be 100% covered.  (Yes, I already called my insurance company to find out what's what.) 

Why, Insurance Company, are you so against proactive care?  Why do I need to pay more for a brace or a shot or an extra visit when you're more content paying for a several thousand dollar surgery instead?  Not enough bang for your buck?  Why do you fight me tooth and nail against coverage for a continuous glucose monitoring device?  Is my life not worth the investment to keep my legs on instead of paying 100% to amputate them in a few decades?  I know I'm expensive as a chronic disease patient, but I'm healthier than 85% of the people I know.  I eat well, I exercise regularly, and I am on top of my disease.  Yet you deny me life insurance, you won't let me purchase a private health insurance policy, and you would rather see me on an operating table than taking up a doctor's time in an office visit.  (And it's not like I'm taking up more than 5 - 7 minutes of a doctor's time, because that's about all we get, on average.  Pathetic.)

I am ashamed sometimes to admit that the reason I don't have the money to go out is because I spent it on a dental cleaning or a follow up visit to my doctor.  I'm embarrassed that proactive patients are the ones going broke.  I hate the healthcare system, and its backwards way of punishing me for thinking ahead and celebrating any decisions to let things deteriorate until I require more "procedures" than "maintenance."  Where's the love for the proactive patient?  Our reward is being charged double?

My checkbook will be $200 lighter next week, and I'm not even "sick."  I'm trying so hard to avoid becoming "sick."

What will my healthcare cost if I ever truly am?

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 12:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (31) | TrackBacks (0)

I can't take it anymore.  This wrist thing is making me crazy.

Since my "diagnosis" with tendinitis in February, I've done plenty of attempted cutting back on repetitive movement:

I've been trying to use the computer mouse less.  Fat chance, seeing as how my day job is extremely computer intensive, and blogging also uses - wait for it - the computer.

I bought a Bamboo.  Yet I haven't had more than 15 minutes to sit down and learn how to use it.  So it's still in the box.  Sitting there.  A waste of money and good intentions.

I took Advil for several days.  Actually, I took it for almost three weeks, and then I heard about the kidney + Advil conundrum.  But also, I didn't like the fact that once the Advil wore off, I was back to being in pain.  Seemed like a bandaid.  I want to fix this.

I sleep with a wrist brace on.  What's sexier than your wife climbing into bed, wearing a pump, a Dexcom, multiple attached sensors, and a wrist brace?  All I'm missing is the damn headgear.  And I'm wearing the brace for more than just sleep - I wear it when I'm driving, as often as possible at work, and if I ever watch television for more than 10 minutes.  (Rare, but it happens.)  

I stopped weight training.  Before my wedding, I was doing as much resistance training as possible.  I liked the effects it had on my body.  But since February,  I've had to stop weight training completely because I can't lift anything up.  I can't do tricep dips.  I can't jump rope.  I can't even hold weights while doing lunges because of the stress on my wrist.  So I've been doing more cardio than usual and gazing w(r)istfully at the free weights.

I can't carry grocery bags.  My wrist explodes with pain when it grazes my desk or the couch or the kitchen counter.  I can't even throw Siah off my chest when she's trying to sniff me to death at night.  (That cat is getting fat.)  I'm not one to complain about physical discomfort, but this wrist pain is beyond tolerable.   

I feel like a 90 year old woman. 

So I went to the Twittersphere and pinged my question out to them in 140 characters or less:  "Tough workout. Wrist issue (tendinitis) is not healing. Has anyone had this before? How did you fix it? V. frustrating."

Responses ranged from "Advil and rest!" to "Physical therapy and a brace!" to "Cortisone shot!"  Apparently, I'm not the only new media-type to have grappled with this issue before.

I called my doctor this morning and explained the situation.  After she realized that, despite my attempts to ease up on the wrist stress I still wasn't on the mend, she recommended I speak with an orthopedic practice and get an appointment.

"They may want to give you the shot that day, so be prepared, diabetes-wise."

"This could make me go high for a few days, right?"

"It depends.  They won't give you much in the injection, and it's a localized dose, so you may not see more than a premenstrual-style spike.  But you might see more than that.  It depends on a lot of factors.  The orthopedist can help answer those questions more specifically."

(This is EXACTLY why I prefer working with a primary care physician who is comfortable with specialists.  She knows that she can cover my basic needs, but she's quick to refer me to doctors who can handle specialized needs.  I like that she doesn't pretend to know everything.  Doctors who acknowledge that they, too, are human make me feel safer.)

"Cool.  Thanks.  I'm tired of feeling like an old bird."

She laughed.  "Let me know how it goes."

So I have an appointment tomorrow morning with an orthopedist, and I'm sort of hoping they do the shot tomorrow so I start putting this pain behind me.  I can't wait to weight train again.  And lift grocery bags. 

And throw Siah.   

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 11:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (22) | TrackBacks (0)

Yesterday didn't go as well as I had hoped.

The nurse came in first and took my blood pressure (fine), weight (slightly higher than last time but I can deal), and my A1C.

(Yes - Joslin is finally giving their adult patients A1C results day-of!  I was abnormally excited.  "You mean I'll know in 15 minutes?  Really?"  The nurse looked at me like I was new to the planet.  But for a minute, I was ecstatic.  I hate waiting.)

While the results were being spun, my endocrinologist came into the office and she and I spent almost two hours together going over numbers, plans for improvement, and the specifics of pre-pregnancy appointments.  While we were talking, the A1C result came through.

"Okay, so you're just where you were four months ago."  

And I felt like crying.  It's overly-dramatic and pretty sad to feel so affected by this number, but it has always been the standard I judged everything against.  It was the number that defined my health. It was the only number in my diabetes world that mattered, and a result that was too high tarnished my spirit.

It spoke to my success, or failure, as a person.  

Or at least that's how it's always felt to me.  

So I felt very teary and felt totally deflated.  And my endo kept talking, moving on past this number and instead trying to isolate patterns in my blood sugars that could be contributing to this result.  We went over my January lab results, and she was very happy with my cholesterol and my heart health.

"You're exercising how often?  Five days a week?  That's great.  I wish more of my patients were into their cardio that way.  Your resting pulse is very low.  That's good."

I couldn't stop thinking about the A1C.  Even though we're not actively trying for a baby, I wanted to get the green light, at least diabetes-wise.  I want to be a mom, and I don't want diabetes being anything that makes me decide to wait.

"Yeah, but the A1C.  I mean, that's the same as last time.  I felt so sure that I was doing better."

She looked at me.  "7.5% is not where we want you. Under 7, if we can, and even closer to 6, if possible.  But it's time, isn't it?  You feel ready?"

I nodded.  A little afraid to speak because this is something I've always wanted.  To be a mom.

"Okay, so it's time to schedule the pregnancy clinic.  Let's get this in motion and we can make everything fall into place.  And I want you to meet with Doctor Boston because she's the leading high-risk maternal fetal medicine ob/gyn out there, and she'll be able to handle your type 1 diabetes, Factor V, and hypertension.  You have more than two decades of diabetes under your belt, so I know you're feeling vulnerable.  We'll schedule this for June?  Does that sound okay to you?  Between now and June, you and I will work together to make this A1C happen."

"So the three of us will be together on this appointment?  And she'll see me through my pregnancy?"

"She'll actually be delivering your baby.  She's the best.  You'll be in very good hands, Kerri."

I had this moment where I clearly pictured this moment of delivery, when I will go from Kerri to "mom" and Chris becomes "dad" and in that instant, diabetes won't count.  It will be about me, and my husband, and my baby.  I felt hopeful that maybe, with enough help, I could really do this. 

"June.  And if I'm good in June, we can actually decide if Chris and I are ready to get pregnant?"

"Some mommies, I worry about.  I worry that they won't be willing to give it the best try they have in them.  But you, I don't worry about.  We can get you there.  You aren't going to do this alone."

"Okay.  I can do better.  I really need to do better.  I'm ready." 

She printed my prescriptions.  They took photos of my retinas to send to the pregnancy clinic.  I paid my co-pay.  I asked Chris to wait for a minute while I ducked into the bathroom.

I closed the door behind me and cried.  I'm so afraid that I can't do this.  I'm so afraid to do this wrong.  I'm almost afraid to try.  I'm afraid to hope.  But I'm so sure that I can overcome these obstacles, just like other women with diabetes have done before me, and become a mom. 

Cried so hard I thought my heart would break because I think this can really happen. 

 

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 02:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (79) | TrackBacks (0)

Chris and I were talking the other day about something completely random, when he turns to me and says, "Oh, wait.  Did you hear that Obama is signing that bill to reverse the ban on stem cell research?"

"I did."  

"So?  Are you excited?"

And I thought about the last two decades.  How the veiled promise of "five more years and then ..." and still nothing. 

"I'm hopeful.  You know me, baby.  I'm almost always hopeful, but until it's actually real ..."

He gave me a grin.  "We just keep you healthy and hoping, right?  Well, this is a huge leap forward."

And today, we leapt as President Obama reversed the ban.

We'll keep hoping.  With the JDRF actively leading (and Tweeting!) the charge, and with diabetes on the national stage, progress could actually be made.  Not just a product redesign or another clever device, not just another type of insulin or another pill - real progress.   

I'd love to go from "type 1" to "type: cured." 

(I've been itching to use the past tense for a long time now.)

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 01:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (16) | TrackBacks (0)

I wrote this post on Diabetes Daily a few weeks back, but I wanted to share this here, too.  When it comes to patient blogging, there are plenty of people who want to know more and who benefit from the collective sharing of our stories … including those of us who are blogging:

 
I blog, therefore I am … a better diabetic?

Not exactly.  Even though I’m blogging about diabetes, I am not “a perfect diabetic.”  My blood sugars still ping all over the place at times and I’ve confessed to consuming more than my share of E.L. Fudge cookies.  I am not a perfect patient, and I won’t ever be.  (Is there even such a thing?)  Blogging about a disease doesn’t make me any less “diabetic.”  There is a misconception about patient bloggers – that we have it all figured out.  

Patient blogging is so powerful because it isn’t about finding perfect control or flawless diabetes management, but about sharing what real life with diabetes is like. This was a topic I blogged about early last week and the response from the community was overwhelming.  Patient blogging brings people with diabetes together, confirming time and time again that we aren’t alone.  It’s about sharing best practices and little coping mechanisms and those resonating moments of “Hey, me too!”  It’s the support community we need when diabetes becomes a little “heavy.”

But patient blogging doesn’t just benefit the patients.  Writing daily about diabetes has connected me with doctors who read to better understand the challenges of diabetes “au natural.”  Even though they take care of us and help us make sense of our medical condition, the closest they get to “understanding” is through our blogs.  Patient blogs offer a window into the personal side of disease management, one that our doctors wouldn’t see unless they bugged our homes or camped outside our windows.  By simply tuning in to the lives of bloggers who represent their patient base, doctors can better understand, and better treat, their patients.

My own doctor at the Joslin Clinic reads my diabetes blog.  Sometimes she emails me links to articles she’s come across that speak to my personal goals.  Other times she helps me out with things like insurance appeal letters.  She knows what kind of insulin I’m on and how I attempt to dose.  But through reading my blog, she also knows that there is so much more to me than my diabetes.  She sees stories about my life – my wedding, traveling, stupid cat stories – intertwined with diabetes moments.  It’s not just managing my diabetes specifically, but helping me manage diabetes in my life as a whole.  

The beauty of patient blogging is that it touches so many lives:  the doctors who want to learn more about their patients, the parents of children who cannot yet describe how they feel; the spouses of people living with this disease; the friends and families; the readers who tune in every day; and the bloggers themselves.  “Health 2.0” and other buzzwords don’t properly capture the positive influence of the diabetes community.  Through these moments of sharing, we learn from and support one another, and live fuller lives as people with diabetes.

And my health - my life - is better for it.

Thanks for hosting my post, Diabetes Daily, and feel free to share how you've benefitted from patient blogging, either as a blogger, a reader, or as a medical professional.

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 09:31 AM | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

About two weeks ago, I had this little, nagging pain in my right wrist.  Not so much at the bendy part, but on the outside of it, right on the bone.  It was sore to the touch, aggravated by movement, and hurt when I woke up in the morning.  It seemed to get worse every day.

So, because I'm a very bright girl, I didn't do anything about it.  Instead, I went to the gym, continued to work feverishly in efforts to meet some writing deadlines, and even finished a scarf I was working on.  (Crochet.  Yes, I am a Grammie-in-Training, it seems.)

Thanks to all of this injury aggravation, I finally had to get myself to the doctor's office yesterday.  The phone call to the nurse/receptionist, as always, was awkward.

"Hi.  It's Kerri Sparling.  I think I have carpal tunnel or some nonsense."

The nurse laughed.

"Hi, Kerri.  Sure, can you come in this morning at 11:45?  So we can check out your nonsense?"

(They are so patient with me.)

"Thanks, see you at 11:45!"

When I arrived, my wrist was throbbing after a morning's worth of mouse-clicking and typing at work.   After being weighed (five pounds since the wedding - more on that later.) and having my blood pressure checked (120 over 72 - good to go), I waited for Dr. CT to visit me.

"Carpal tunnel?"  She said, walking into the room with a concerned look on her face.  "And hi, Kerri.  Carpal tunnel in diabetes is common, but let's make sure that's what you have going on."

"It hurts here," I said, pointing to the outer right hand side of my ... well, my right hand.  "And when I lift it in a pulling motion, it doesn't hurt.  But a pushing motion and a lifting motion kills."

She took my hand and pressed on the sides, asking me to flex the tendons.  "Here is the worst?"  

"Yes.  Yup, right there."  

"Well, the good news is that it isn't carpal tunnel.  It is tendinitis, though.  I'm sorry because I can tell this is making you very uncomfortable.  What I want to do is start you taking Advil three times a day, wearing a wrist brace while you sleep, and layng off the mouse as much as you can.  We need to let this rest so it can heal properly, okay?"

I'm like an addict.  My Internet-itchy fingers started to quiver.  

"Ah, staying off the mouse will be tough because I work all day on computers and I have a tendency to write a lot when I get home at night."   

She shot me a look.  

"Okay, okay, Dr. CT.  I will be mouse-free as often as possible."  Possibly a lie, but I'll try, anyway.

Tendinitis.   Another side dish that seems to come with diabetes.  Fantastico.  Anyone else have any experience with this one?  I'm looking for fast recovery and yet the ability to remain bloggy.

Edit:  Great idea from George and some folks on Twitter - might need to Bedazzle that shit! Now I just have to order one.  ;)

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 11:08 AM | Permalink | Comments (25) | TrackBacks (0)

What a freaking long week, with a doctor's appointment every day and way too much medical analysis.  This week is a very personal Friday Six, and here it is:

1.  On Monday, I had my A1C drawn.  I've been to this specific lab before, and the same woman has drawn my blood before, so I didn't have a lot of anticipatory nerves.  But when the lab technician said, "Okay, you have lost all of your color - put your head down, Mrs. Sparling," I knew I wasn't as badass as I wished to be.  (And I also winced when I pulled off the cotton ball she had taped to my inner arm ... I'm such a wuss.)  But thankfully, the results were a full point lower than my last A1c, leaving me with a 7.5% and a reachable goal of <7% for April. 

2.  And Tuesday, I had a dentist appointment.  Those of you who have been reading SUM for a few years know that I have an unholy fear of the dentist, but it is warranted.  My teeth are so sensitive and require barrels of novocain to make them numb, so fearing the wielder of pointy metal hooks in my mouth is a rational fear.  However, my new dentist is FANTASTIC and brings me no pain.  I had my teeth cleaned (first time in ... ages, unfortunately), no cavities, and I have already scheduled another cleaning for April.  I'm considering the dentist hurdle cleared for the time being.

3.  Wednesday has me sitting at the dermatologist's office to have a new freckle on my breast examined.  (Whoa, Kerri.  TMI?)  Yes, that is way too much information, but since when did I start censoring myself?  (Since ... today?  Maybe I should start.)  Always in a constant state of medical over analysis, I decided it was best to have it checked out.  So I spent Wednesday morning having a kind, eccentric, little bald doctor look at my breast with a magnifying glass.  Definitely a "first."  This little issue ended up being nothing to worry about, but now I can check "awkward sharing moment with the Internet" off my list for the week. 

4.  Thursday had me with dilated pupils at the retinologist's office.  Of all the appointments this week, this eye one was the least ... awesome.   

"Look up ... okay, now look a little to the left ... Kerri, up again ..."  Dr. Retina kept shining the light in my left eye and making a "hmmmm" sound under his breath.  My face was cupped by the eye examination machine.

"You can't fool me.  I know you found something.  Spit it out."  My eye doctor and I have a very good relationship, and we talk like we're about to go grab a beer together.

"Small little something.  Hemorrhages in there that I want to keep an eye on."

"Pun intended?"  Without moving my face from the chin rest, I reached over and grabbed a Kleenex because I immediately started to cry.  But I was oddly okay with the news.  Maybe I've already had that bubble busted.

"It's okay.  But with you and your husband talking about maybe getting pregnant in the coming year, I want to keep close tabs on your eyes.  You've had diabetes for what, a million years?"

"Twenty-two years."  I smiled.

"Twenty-two years.  And your eyes look beautiful - barely a problem at all.  But I want to keep them that way.  Let's schedule an appointment to do a fluorescein dye exam before you and Chris are pregnant, just so we know exactly what we're dealing with."

"What is that?"

"We'll inject a dye into your arm, then do a dilation on your eyes.  The dye lets me really see what's going on in there with complete precision.  And with you, I do not want to take any chances."

"Okay.  So do I need to worry about this?  I'm worried.   You know I worry."

"You worry?  You do?"  The gentle ribbing was okay with me.  Soothed my anxiety a bit.  "You do what you're doing.  Work to keep your blood sugars controlled.  And think about taking some time off from all that work you do.  Maybe take a vacation?"

Fine.  So now I need to schedule a vacation.  Doctor's orders, you see.  ;)

5.  Now that these appointments are all behind me, I'm moving forward towards the next steps.  I am doing the pre-pregnancy clinic at Joslin in March, and Chris and I are working to get everything in order so that we can make our family-starting decisions based on factors other than diabetes ones.  It's an exciting time, and one I've been looking forward to my whole life.

6.  And in my only news-related bit of the day, this weekend is the end of the MedGadget awards, and thanks to all of your help and support, SUM is in the lead for Best Patient Blog.  I would be honored to win this award on behalf of every last one of us, so please keep spreading the word and voting!  :)  Thanks for everything, and hopefully on Sunday I can report that WE DID IT! 

I'm planning to spend the weekend hanging with my girl friends (finally seeing the Batman after a long absence!) and doing some recreational writing.  I hope you guys have a great weekend, and stay WARM!!

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 11:32 AM | Permalink | Comments (16) | TrackBacks (0)

As with everything diabetes-related (or maybe just life-related), there are pros and cons to this whole continuous glucose monitoring thing.  For those of you who are still thinking about whether you want to make this CGM leap, here are my pros and cons of CGMing to shed some light on the subject.

CGM CONS:

The sensor is bulky.  The sensor isn't tiny (about the size of an iPod shuffle), but it's held securely down by the adhesive gauze, so once it's in place, I can't feel it.  This is a big deal for me, since the Minimed CGM was painful for me.  However, it's visible underneath the sleeve of my shirts when I wear it on my arm and it's slightly uncomfortable to sleep on when it's on my back.

Can be "too much information."  Having blood sugar updates every five minutes is awesome, until you find yourself checking it every five minutes and obsessing over each result.  I needed to be psychologically ready for a CGM, and I need to be able to keep it from ruling my life. 

Receiver is enormous.  The Dexcom receiver is pretty big - bigger than my Blackberry - and it's cumbersome to wear.  I usually keep it on my desk, in my purse, or in my coat pocket when I'm out.  At night, I strap it to the headboard of the bed using a headband.  Not a big deal, but it's hard to miss.  Especially when it ...

Beeeeeeeeeeeps! The beeps are LOUD.  Mega loud.  Loud enough to wake me up during the night if I'm low (thankfully), but during the quieter parts of the workday, it's loud enough to distract my coworkers.  I recognize that the beeping is important, but it's not always convenient.

Adhesive sort of sucks.   This is my biggest compliant about Dexcom sensors.  The things do NOT want to stay stuck for more than five or six days.  I shower twice a day (before work and after the gym) and I wear clothes that rub up against the sensor, no matter where I place it.  Even with SkinTac, the edges of the sensor start to peel up at about the five day mark, and it's loose and ready to fall at the 7 - 8 day mark.  (And sometimes, the SkinTac and the Dexcom adhesive and a not-so-helpful bandaid create a huge and ugly problem:  frigging ouch.  See the photo on Flickr for a full rundown.) 

I do not like when a $60 sensor starts to peel away.  This is highly annoying.

Insurance coverage battles. While others have had their requests approved without batting much of an eye, my insurance coverage for the CGM had to be fought for.  I battled my insurance company for over eight months before receiving my approval letter.  The insurance hurdles are a definite con, and might make some people reluctant to fight for their right for a CGM.  (Cheerleader note:  But don't let it stop you!  Go for it!)

Doesn't feel "sexy."  (Yes, I know this "shouldn't matter," but these are my personal pros and cons, so roll with me, okay?)  With the pump infusion set stuck into one part of me and the CGM sensor in another, wearing two devices doesn't exactly feel like I'm ready to model for Victoria's Secret.  There have been plenty of times when a moment has been interrupted by the CGM beeping or the sensor getting stuck on my clothes and whatnot. 

CGM PROS:

Low blood sugar safety net.  This was a huge part of why I wanted to use a CGM in the first place:  hypoglycemia unawareness.  I was exhausted and frightened of the lows at 3 am, so having the added safety net of the CGM has been a huge improvement.  The CGM does its job and protects me from plummeting blood sugars.  When Chris is away on business, he prefers that I wear the CGM to keep an eye on those lows.  It makes me feel safe, and I value that "pro" above all others.

Helps me avoid staying high.  My body reacts to blood sugars that are over 260 mg/dl or so, but those 160's and 180's often go unnoticed.  The Dexcom helps me wrangle in these "minor" highs and tighten up my blood sugar standard deviation overall.  Staving off both the lows and the highs will be particularly helpful during my future pregnancy.

Excellent for exercise.  I go to the gym at least five days a week, and my workouts range from walking/jogging on the treadmill to cardio circuit training.  The CGM has been AWESOME at detecting fluctuations in my numbers while I work out, helping me avoid those crash-and-burn lows at the gym and also the highs that sometimes crop up after a hard workout.  (And it was great on our hikes when we went to Acadia - excellent tool!)

Driving safety.  I spend a lot of time in the car driving back and forth to RI, and the drive time is anywhere from 2 1/2 hours to 4 hours (depending on traffic - I hate CT highways).  Having the Dexcom in the center console next to me while I travel is another big bonus.  With hypoglycemia unawareness and blood sugars that seem to be affected as much by my moods as by what I'm eating, having an extra eye on those numbers is crucial to keep be safe behind the wheel.

Integration-free works for me.  I trialed both the Minimed CGM and the Dexcom and for me, the Dexcom being a seperate device worked best for me.  With the Minimed CGM, I couldn't hear the pump alarming in the night because it was buried underneath the blankets.  Having the Dex receiver separate from the pump is convenient for the nighttime alarms and also if I want to avoid having to deal with the CGM for a little bit.  I can shove it into my purse, bury it in a desk drawer, or even walk away from it for a little while if I want.  I like the freedom from being beeped at sometimes.  It sounds counterproductive, but in the longrun, this is a bonus for me.

Trending and tracking.  Here's the point of CGMs - to track the trends of my blood sugars.  The Dex doesn't replace my meter, but instead works with it.  I test on my meter and see a result of 100 mg/dl, but with the Dex, I know I'm "100 going down," "100 going up," or "100 holding steady."  This makes it easy to go into long meetings at work without fearing a crash, and also lets me go to bed at a blood sugar of 90 mg/dl with confidence.

Pretty darn accurate.  I don't expect this thing to be right all the time.  I already have my head programmed to accept that a CGM doesn't replace finger sticks, so when things don't match up all nice-nice, I don't flip out.  Overall, though, I've found that the CGM rides pretty close to my meter.  Dex works better when I'm running a bit steadier, so it's actually a weird sort of incentive to maintain better control to retain the integrity of the sensor.  Don't ask me to mentally make sense of that - I need to take whatever motivation I can and run with it.  ;)

But it does feel sexy.  And this is the flip side to that "con" coin.  The Dexcom is sexy.  It's stuck to me to gain better control of my diabetes.  Good control helps everything from my weight to my hair to my internal organs to my smile.  Being healthy is sexy as hell.  And being confident enough to wear this machine, despite its cons and because of its pros, makes me feel stronger all the way around.  For me, after weighing all these pros and cons, the CGM is definitely worth it.

Readers Beware!!:  These are MY pros and cons.  I chronicle my personal experiences with diabetes here on SUM and I'm not a doctor or a CDE or a medical professional of any kind.  I have decided to use the Dexcom CGM after trialing both the Minimed and the Dexcom, but I know plenty of people who are using the Minimed CGM without issue.  For me, the Dexcom was a more comfortable fit into my life, literally and figuratively.  It's all about personal preferences, and these are mine. 

If you're thinking about trying out a CGM, I recommend trialing as many kinds as you can before making an informed decision.  Your mileage on these devices will vary, so it's important to find out what works best for YOU.  Contact your CDE and see if you can schedule a week trial session with different devices. 

If you want to share your perspectives, feel free!  I love that the online diabetes community has become a real source of information for diabetics everywhere who are looking for real information - we are the true mavens of patient experience!

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 11:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (19) | TrackBacks (0)

In many ways, I'm an adult.  I am married.  I have a job.  I am responsible (to a certain extent) and I make the bed without being asked.  This makes me a grown up, I think.

However, I'm scared of the dentist, and the idea of going for something as simple as a routine cleaning makes me tremble like a child.

I have good reason, though.  My family has good looking teeth, but they not the best, structurally.  Our teeth are exceptionally sensitive, and we require more novocaine than your average dental patient.  As a kid, I spent some time in the dentist's chair having cavities filled (so did my brother and sister) and I wore braces for three years in middle school.  As an adult, I've had my share of weird little toofus problems - like grinding down my molars while I sleep and these pesky sensitive spots at the base of a few of my front teeth.

It's these sensitive spots that cause me the most trouble.  About ten years ago, my dentist decided that he needed to cap the base of my sensitive teeth.  "No, I don't want that," I thought.  But becuse I was in Milgram Mode, I caved and let the dentist do his thing.  He shaved off a bit of the very bottoms (near the gumline) of four of my teeth and put a ceramic filling over them.  Sensitivity issues?  Solved.  But the procedure left me sore and bleeding for days. 

And, three years later, one of the ceramic fillings popped off, exposing that vulnerable nervy area.  I had a different dentist, and his repair included not using enough novocaine, accidentally drilling my lip, and earning many bloody cotton balls.

Two and a half years after that, this shoddy workmanship cracked off again.  Another dentist took a literal stab at it, mangling my gums and leaving aching teeth and bruises on the side of my face.   Bastard dentist.

So when this God forsaken filling popped off yet again Monday morning, I was filled with panic.  "Oh, for crying out loud."  The exposed spot wasn't so painful, but past experience told me that repairing it would be a nightmare.  

Without letting my brain reach maximum nervousness, I called a new local dentist and made an appointment.  "Tomorrow morning?  Great, thank you."  Pause.  "Um, is Dr. B nice?  I'm nervous."

The receptionist laughed.  "She's very nice.  We have plenty of nervous patients, and they all like her a lot."

"Awesome.  See you at 8." 

I showed up to the small practice, nerves of all kinds exposed, and Dr. B greeted me at the door.   

"Hi, are you Kerri?"

"Yes.  You knew it was me?"

She consulted my chart.  "They said you were nervous.  You look a little nervous."  She smiled and closed the folder.  "Nothing to worry about.  This is going to be just fine."

Faithful Readers, let me tell you that I sent a thank you note to the dentist this morning because she was awesome.  Aside from being this friendly looking woman with an easy smile, she took great pains to make sure I wasn't in any pain.  She made sure I was novocained to the fullest extent so I wouldn't feel any discomfort at all.  She told me what she was going to do before she did it, and she advised me to close my eyes when the instruments in play weren't the friendliest-looking.  (I told you I was a big ol' baby.)  She also had a DVD player mounted above the chair, and using headphones to listen, I watched two episodes of The Office while she fixed my tooth.  I know this sounds melodramatic but I can't properly explain how scared of the dentist I am, and how much this particular experience didn't suck.

After it was over, she smiled at me.  "I hope that wasn't too bad.  Are you feeling okay?"

"It wathn't bad at aw.  Fank you," I said, trying to look grown up, but it was hard with the drool and one side of my mouth completely uncooperative.  I smiled a lopsided, pathetic smile, but I meant it.  And when I got in the car, I called Chris.

"Chrith!  The dentith wath awefum.  It didn't huht at aww.  I aweady scheduwed a cweaning."

Cwisis avewted. 

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 10:11 AM | Permalink | Comments (17) | TrackBacks (0)

I have been approved!!!!!!!

They're covering my sensors.  I cannot believe it.  And from what I've been told, I'm one of the first on Connecticut's Oxford Health Plans to be approved for CGM use. 

Also from what I've been told, it takes an external appeal to make it happen.  So if you are fighting for CGM coverage, DO NOT GIVE UP.  Keep fighting!  Appeal every denial.  Make sure you don't miss any appeal deadlines!  It seems like insurance companies deny everything at first and only approve once you battle back.  So keep fighting, and do not give up!  (And use exclamation points!  Ahhh!  I'm so excited!!)

The tools to live well with diabetes should not just be for the people who can afford them.  Fight for your right for coverage.

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 02:09 PM | Permalink | Comments (60) | TrackBacks (0)

Anyone who hasn't been storing their brain in a shoebox underneath the bed has probably realized that the economy is tanking.  People are being laid off and positions are being eliminated at companies.  Grocery money doesn't seem to buy as much now as it did even six months ago.  Gas prices, despite the fact that they've fallen a bit in the past few weeks, are still just under $4.00 a gallon. 

But these are issues that are affecting all families across the nation.  For us, diabetes care can also be affected by the crumbling economy.  My brain tends to go into panicked little pockets when I think about the economic situation.  For me, a job means more than just money - it's medical insurance.  Even now, in good health and without any outstanding medical bills, my monthly medical expenses add up.  From co-pays on items like blood pressure medication and birth control pills to the non-prescription items like prenatal vitamins and healthy food, it can get expensive. 

I was thinking about money in my budget that I consider well-spent, like my monthly membership to the gym and our grocery bill.  For some, spending $30 a month to workout and spending an inordinate amount of money on foods like fresh produce, organic products, and other fancy crap that they sell at Whole Foods and Trader Joes may seem like money that could be saved.  But when it comes to diabetes management, "control" is more than just the pump I'm using and the insulin I'm taking - it's about all these other variables, too. 

I remember (let's step into the Wayback Machine again, shall we?) test strips that could be cut in half, or into thirds, and at least the gist of a blood sugar level could be grabbed by comparing the color of the strip pad against the guide on the side of the bottle.  Granted, today's strips are more accurate, but are they really costing manufacturers $0.85 apiece to make?  (Because that's about what they charge us, as consumers.)  Diabetes supplies used to be able to go further.  Now they are indeed more accurate, but they don't go very far at all.  And keeping up with the costs of this maintenance, in addition to making attempts at important, preventative care like a CGM, is starting to make me a little nervous.  I'm finding my mind going back to the desire to wear infusion sets past their three-day shelf life and refilling reservoirs, to help extend the life of my supplies.  Ridiculous?  Yes.  But when I'm thinking about other life expenses - car payment, rent, utility bills, gas prices, and the occasional movie or night out - I find myself cutting corners where I can.

What are you guys doing to get the most bang from your diabetes buck?  Are you streeeeeetching out the life of insulin pump supplies?  Are you trying to gain insurance approval for a CGM as a way of conserving test strips?  Do you find yourself debating between paying for gas or renewing your gym membership?  The decisions are tough now, and I fear that they may be getting tougher in the future.  (And have you seen the Twitter election feed?  Regardless of who you're supporting in this election, this constant streaming commentary is pretty fascinating.)

The price of good diabetes control is high, and the cost of not trying to stay healthy is even higher.  How are you managing the cost of care?

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 11:08 AM | Permalink | Comments (21) | TrackBacks (0)

There's a lot of buzz in the blogosphere today about insurance denials and appeals, starting with an article in the Wall Street Journal about "Pushing Back When Insurers Deny Coverage For Treatment."  Scott Strumello brought this article to my attention this morning via his comprehensive blog post about it, and Bernard sent me there again with his perspective.  And after reading everyone's take, in addition to having experienced three denials for CGM coverage from my insurance company (Oxford Health), I realize that I have gone at this problem the wrong way.

Insurance companies don't care about my future baby.  They don't care about my A1c.  Unfortunately, insurance companies are watching dollars and cents, not good sense.  A passionate letter from a patient doesn't even come close to moving an insurance company to provide coverage or overturn an appeal.  They seem to respond to "the facts" only, and I should have attacked them with facts to begin with.  Instead, I took the personal approach, which left me denied three times.  And it's partially my fault because I expect them to care, even when I know they won't.  My approach was arrogant, thinking they'd respond to actual emotion.

But this time?  No emotion at all.  This appeal was just the facts, ma'am.

I sent the Connecticut Department of Insurance a packet of information this morning, in hopes of having my Dexcom CGM system denial overturned.   I included the following:

• Request for External Appeal form (my insurance information, healthcare provider information, detailed description of disagreement with healthcare plan)
• The denial letter from Oxford Health Plans, stating that their decision is final
  
• Proof that the service in question is a covered benefit (this was in the form of my insurance policy benefit handbook)
• Executed medical release form
• Photocopy of my insurance card
• Documentation supporting my appeal, including a letter from me, my endocrinologist, and Dexcom
• Oh, and a check for $25.  They specify that this is non-refundable. 
  

Under the guidance of the Region Managed Care Director at Dexcom, the supporting documentation I included was very factual and devoid of almost any emotion.  My personal letter, which was written with the help of the Dexcom rep and is so stoic and so dry that it doesn't even sound close to anything I would say is supposedly an example of what "will work."  The letter from my endocrinologist cited my elevated A1c, the ADA A1c standard for pregnancy, the Factor V issue, 22 years of IDDM, and various complications I've experienced (including the cotton wool spot, high blood pressure, etc).

Dexcom also provided a packet, which included the recent NEJM study results and other studies supporting the use of CGM technology to better control diabetes.  The letter from my Dexcom rep included a demonstration of the proven benefits of CGM technology on health outcomes, and also outlined the appeal-denied-appeal-denied cycle that I've been in for the last few months.

So it's in the FedEx box now and waiting to be sent off to the Connecticut Department of Insurance.  Each item is tabbed and in the order requested by the appeal form.  It's on time, comprehensive, and fact-filled.  I hope this appeal gets my CGM approved.

The only frustrating part of this process was that I couldn't really lash out.  I couldn't tell these insurance companies what I was really thinking, which was along the lines of "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?  CAN'T YOU SEE THAT THIS TECHNOLOGY WORKS AND I WANT A HEALTHY PREGNANCY AND WHO ARE YOU TO TELL ME I'M NOT APPROVED?!!"  (Ahem.  Sorry.)  It's infuriating to play by their rules, but I'll do whatever it takes to obtain approval.  It makes me absolutely crazy that this technology exists and it has worked for me and it's still not covered.  Don't insurance companies want people to remain healthy?  Isn't there a cost-benefit to them for acting proactively instead of reactively? What is wrong with this healthcare system?!

I'll wait patiently.  I'll hope that this fact-driven approach gets me somewhere.  And I'm very thankful for the assistance and support I've received from Dexcom, dLife, and my friends and family.

But I had to get my digs in somewhere - the memo line of the check is "ridiculous fee for appeal."  Jerkface insurance company.  They're messing with the wrong girl.

(I hope.) 

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 12:11 PM | Permalink | Comments (25) | TrackBacks (0)

About once a month, there's a certain spike to blood sugar patterns that is both predictable and completely chaotic - welcome to this morning's TMI post about diabetes and the menstrual cycle. 

Two months ago, when the gene for the Factor V Leiden mutation was detected in my blood, my endocrinologist and my gynecologist decided to remove me from my birth control pill and switch me to something with less of a clotting risk.  Since I decided to go on the pill when I was a freshman in college, I have always been on the standard estrogen/progesterone pill (I was on the ortho-tricyclen, then tri-sprintec, if you want a good ol' dose of TMI).  When it came to diabetes and this kind of pill, there was plenty of information out there, so I had a good idea of what to expect.

But this new one?  The progesterone only?  It's a bit of a wildcard.  I'm currently taking the Errin pill (28 days of hormones, no "placebo" pills) and these first two months have been pretty damn tricky.  I'm not sure if it's my age, the ticking of my biological clock, or just the changes in my body as I age, but this pill made my emotions run wildly.   And the information I've received on this pill has varied.  The internet (oh Internet!) informs me that the brand name version of this pill comes with a diabetes-specific warning:  "Diabetes patients - Ortho Micronor may affect your blood sugar. Check blood sugar levels closely. Ask your doctor before you change the dose of your diabetes medicine."

Oh for crying out loud ... another variable?  

I was on the old pill for almost ten years, in total, and I was used to the effects it had on my body.  I was accustomed to the 28 day cycle, the guaranteed four day period, and the pre-period spikes weren't dramatic.  I actually noticed a drop in my insulin needs while I was on the placebo week, and I had a decade to really adjust to the whole process.  This new bit, with a whole new hormone regimen, has thrown my body into the spin cycle.  I can't anticipate the highs because I'm not sure if/when the actual period is coming.  (Part of the trick with progesterone-only pills is that you may not always have a period, which makes my brain melt.) 

Aside from these unpredictable start times, this seems to be the first pill that affects my emotional state closer to the end of the 28 day cycle ... for example, I came across this video of a singing little six year old and promptly burst into tears.  I had a few days of feeling amped up, over-emotional, and anxious, and these emotions had their own little tea party with my blood sugars.

I want stability.  My whole reason for being on birth control at this point is to protect my body from pregnancy, because my A1C is spikey.  So I take the pill to protect body-from-baby/baby-from-body, yet the pill itself could be contributing to an elevated A1C.  It's frustrating because pill options are limited (thank you, Factor V), pregnancy is not encouraged at this A1C, and I'm a young, newly-wedded woman with a healthy libido.  (Kerri!  Your mother reads this blog!  And so does HIS mother!  Ahhhhhh!  Go delete that!  I'll wait.)

Nope.  Can't delete it.  This is real life with diabetes, awkward bits and all.  Anyone out there on a mini-pill and seeing some numbers (and emotional) fluctuations?  I'm trying to learn everything and anything I can, with the end goal being Nice Healthy Baby Range.  Talk to me - I need some advice!

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 11:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (30) | TrackBacks (0)

My insurance company still says NO to my request for approval of a continuous glucose monitoring system.  But - a ha! - a study conducted by the JDRF has given me something to print out and mail along with my third appeal.  Thanks to several dozen emails this morning directing me to the study and special thanks to Cynthia Rice, Director of New Technology Access in Washington, DC, I now have the inside scoop on why insurance companies should listen up and listen good:

Kerri:  This study quantifies the value of a continuous glucose monitoring device for people with type 1 diabetes, in particular, for adults aged 25 and over.  How did individuals over the age of 25 fare using this device?

Cynthia:  The study found patients with type 1 diabetes who used continuous glucose monitoring (CGM) devices to help manage their disease experienced significant improvements in blood sugar control. Overall, adults 25 and over lowered their A1c by .53%; were more likely to lower their A1c by 10%; and were more likely to reach target below 7.0.

Kerri:  In regards to the younger group, the kids under 15, how were their results similar or different?

Cynthia:  Children under age 15 using CGM were more likely to lower their HbA1c by at least 10% and achieve HbA1c levels below 7% compared with non-CGM users.  At the same time, the average decrease in HbA1c was not significantly different in the CGM and non-CGM groups.  Although the study was not specifically designed to assess the effect of frequency of CGM use on A1c, an initial analysis of the data suggests that patients under 15 who used CGM at least six days a week or more lowered their A1cs just as much as adults.  On average, only 50% of children under 15 who used CGM used it six days a week or more.

Kerri:  What is the assumption about the 15 - 24 age group?  Why didn't the use of a CGM make a bigger impact on their A1c values?

Cynthia:  Fifteen to twenty-four-year-old CGM users as a group did not experience significant improvements in glucose control compared with the control group.  Although it’s clear from a preliminary analysis of the data that teenagers were the least likely group to wear the CGM near daily (30%), the study was not geared to answer this question -- however, many families with teenagers will not be terribly surprised with the result.

Kerri:  At a session at CWD in Orlando this year, Bruce Buckingham discussed how CGMs work best for people who wear them at least six days a week.  Your study appeared to confirm this statement, at least for the 25 and older group.  How does duration of use affect results?

Cynthia:  In the study, CGM use varied with age, averaging at least six days a week over the course of the trial in 83% of the patients 25 years and older, but dropping off to 30% of the 15 to 24 year olds and 50% of the 8 to 14 year olds. Although the study was not specifically designed to assess the effect of frequency of CGM use on HbA1c, an analysis presented this week at a scientific conference suggested that patients within all three age groups, including teens and young adults, who used the device at least six days a week had substantially lower HbA1c levels after six months compared with patients who used CGM less than six days a week.

Kerri:  Many people with diabetes are fighting with their insurance companies to get their CGM systems approved.  How can this study help move patients towards approval?

Cynthia:  By showing that CGM use improves glucose control, this study, published in the prestigious, peer-reviewed New England Journal of Medicine, gives justification for expanded health plan coverage of CGM.  JDRF will be briefing health plans on these results and encouraging people with type 1 diabetes and their loved ones advocate to their own health plans to cover CGM.  You can help secure coverage for CGM by clicking here.

Kerri:  And lastly, how can we, as the diabetes community, get more involved and help move research forward?

Cynthia:  When you click on this link, you can not only help secure coverage for CGM, but sign up to receive emails from JDRF on how you can advocate for federal research funding and get involved in your local community to help move research forward.  

Thanks for your time, Cynthia!  And for more information on CGM insurance coverage, you can visit the JDRF website, sign the CGM Anti-Denial Petition, and check for more CGM updates here on SUM.

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 04:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBacks (1)

Over the last three months, I've received no less than ten phone calls from a collections agency:

"Mrs. Moron?  You owe us $100 for insulin pump supplies."

"It's More-own.  Actually, it's Sparling now.  And I do not owe your company anything.  I've been paying my co-payments with each order."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Sparkling.  Our records show that you owe one hundred."

I tell them they are wrong.  They say they'll check their records and call me back.  About a week later, the phone will ring again:

"Mrs. Sparlinc?  Your balance is $60 owed to us."

"That is incorrect.  I don't owe you guys anything.  Can you send me supporting documentation?  I want to make sure our records are synching up.  And my last name is Sparling.  With a g at the end."

"Okay."

They send another bill, instead of supporting documents.  The bill is for $100 (I thought they just said $60?)  I call them:

"This is Kerri Sparling.  I received another bill from you, but I believe it is incorrect."

"Yes.   You owe $40."

"The bill says $100.  Last time you called, you said $60.  Now it's $40?"

"Wait, I was wrong.  You owe $60.  Please send a check or we will have to pursue legal action."

"This is ridiculous.  Do not call me again.  I am writing a check for $60 today.  Don't call me, don't bill me without supporting documentation, and please, please get my name right."

I mailed out the check last week, on August 19th.  I received correspondence from them today, dated August 21st:

A refund of $40, made out to "Kerri Morron [sic]."  Frigging idiots.  Now I'll wait for them to send back my $60.  In the meantime, I'm sure they'll send me a bill.

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 02:09 PM | Permalink | Comments (14) | TrackBacks (0)

"The problems are that they aren't accurate all the time and they don't replace fingersticks."  She adjusted her shirt collar.  "It's tough for insurance companies to get on board with that."

It's no surprise that I attended every CGM focus group offered at CWD.  From discussions about government viewpoints with Arleen Pinkus of the FDA to debates about accuracy with Dr. Bruce Buckingham, I was tuned in and looking for ammo against my insurance company's repeated denials.  (Acknowledgment of my second appeal arrived in the mail while I was away.) 

When the group (which included Manny, Sara, and the man himself - Bennet) asked about insurance coverage, the FDA lady told us that there just wasn't enough data from the Medicare crowd.  

"So you're telling us that we just need to slap a few sensors on some 65 plus diabetics and that will help turn the tide?" I asked.

She actually said, "Yes.  That would do it."

Fortunately, the CGM session with Bruce Buckingham was far more informative and armed me with enough information for my third appeal letter.  He was a warm and soft-spoken man who lead a 90 minute session about CGMs and how they can benefit the life of someone with diabetes. 

"When I worked at the diabetes camps, they called me a pancreas, because my pancreas worked," he quipped to us, talking about the history of diabetes and explaining how physicians used to taste the urine of their patients to make a diagnosis.  "The first pump was in 1978.  The first common place meter was in 1980.  I know - the pump was before the meter!"  

Dr. Buckingham talked about how CGMs don't measure blood glucose, but instead measure the interstitial fluid.  He told us that it takes about six minutes for the blood glucose to affect the interstitial fluid measurements, which helps explain how CGMs and glucose meters don't always match up with precision.  He cited that the delay is more realistically a full eight minutes.

There was a lot of discussion about accuracy.  From my almost 22 years of experience with type 1 diabetes, I'm convinced that every mg/dl result is a concrete one.  It's been a tough mental hurdle, leaping from snapshots to trending.  But Dr. Buckingham confirmed yet again that a CGM is a trending, and not a treatment, device.  Any CGM result should be confirmed on a glucose meter before treating with food or insulin. 

Another point he touched upon was that of sensor calibration.  I test upwards of 15 times per day, so I was inclined to calibrate my sensor whenever I tested my blood sugar.  "Calibrating when unsteady can cause the sensor to be biased," Dr. Buckingham said.  If I test and my numbers are rapidly rising, I'm calibrating my sensor on the climb.  That's going to throw off the accuracy for sure.  Calibrating when steady (or at least steady-ish ... diabetes is never completely precise) helps retain the integrity of the sensor.  But there is always a lag time with subcutaneous sensors, i.e. recovery from a low blood sugar may not be apparent on a sensor in a timely fashion.

All these technical details were well and good, but I wanted information on what made someone a good candidate for a CGM (particularly in the eyes of insurance companies).  Dr. Buckingham provided a list of possible candidates:

• patients at a high A1c
• patients with a fear of hypoglycemia
• hypoglycemic unawareness
• pregnancy/preconception
• gastroparesis
• athletes
• patients on medications like pramlintide (Symlin) and exenatide
• patients who may wear the sensor intermittently to better understand their own diabetes

I saw myself on that list several times.  Dr. Buckingham told the group about how a CGM can provide fantastic feedback that can really affect diabetes management decisions.  He said that the immediacy of the feedback helps identify causality, meaning that we could see how different foods affect blood glucose levels, and that the data can be use to prevent or detect earlier extremes in glucose levels. 

He did have some warnings, though.  He warned about over-calibrating (as discussed before).  He also warned against insulin stacking (taking small bolus after small bolus in efforts to correct highs). He also acknowledged that some of the alarms weren't effective, and that many PWDs slept through them.  One tip he offered was to keep the CGM receiver in a glass on the bedside table, so that when it vibrates, the rattle in the glass helps wake you up.

"It doesn't work unless you wear it," he offered, adding that the sensor is a behavior modification tool and if you aren't ready to accept diabetes, you may not be ready to wear an extra device.  According to Dr. Buckingham, a CGM can make someone feel vulnerable and defensive, with every number out there on display.   

But then he said this:  "A CGM can help you achieve a better A1C without increasing hypoglycemia."  I thought about the lack of lows I've had in the past few months, and I was happy to not be crashing and burning in the middle of the night.  But an elevated A1C also came along without those lows to tip the curve.  I'm so hopeful that a CGM will help me gain better control of my diabetes without tossing my numbers down the well every few days.  

I thought about how Chris said he feels safer when I wear it.  My mom said the same thing.  And I agree.

Come on, Insurance Companies.  Get on board!!

Editor's Note:  Do you want to join the fight for CGM coverage?  Sign the CGM Denial Petition and Raise Your Voice!! Also, Dr. Bruce Buckingham is leading a chat about Continuous Glucose Monitors on DiabetesTalkFest tonight.  Log in at 9 pm EST!

SUM Tags: diabetes, Friends for Life, CWD, CGM, continuous glucose monitor, diabetes advocacy, children with diabetes

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 11:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (8) | TrackBacks (1)

We drive.  Friday night, after taking in the new Batman movie, we hopped in the car late at night and drove home to RI.  (Late-night driving means less sleep but also means less traffic, and we'll take the latter, thanks.)  Saturday morning had me at the beach with a few of my college roommates, then dinner out with family on Saturday night, then breakfast with Batman (my friend, not Christian Bale), then a cookout at my mother's house on Sunday afternoon.

It sounds like a lot of driving because it IS a lot.  Chris and I try to connect with as many of our friends and family as possible when we come home on the weekends because we don't have the opportunity to see them for several weeks on end.  Connecticut, though filled with career opportunities for us both, doesn't have much in the way of family.  And lately, family and friends are something I've been missing tremendously.

I've hit a very rough patch, diabetes-management wise.  My A1c came back the highest it's been in five and a half years, and I didn't take the increase with any grace at all.  Even though I can attribute the rise to wedding chaos and honeymoon laziness, I still felt so disappointed.  In addition to an elevated A1c, I've also been diagnosed with a disorder called Factor V Leiden, which can cause blood clots and has forced me to change some of my routine (read: birth control pills are now a no-no).  Despite the fact that this disorder is unlikely to cause problems, it's still a new blip on my health radar and contributed to my feeling of "eh" last week.  I was feeling overwhelmed with health concerns, frustrated with insurance issues for the Dexcom, and pretty damn grumpy.  Crumbs Morrone ... er, Sparling.  Crumbs Sparling.

I needed some time with friends and family this weekend, to help take the edge off a roughish week.  And it worked.  Yesterday afternoon, I was hanging out in my mother's yard, taking pictures of her garden.  My mom is very whimsical and a little silly, and her yard is crammed with flowers and these strange little garden critters that she finds from the Christmas Tree Shop:  small ceramic ducks, little turtles, and garden gnomes.  It sounds like her lawn is littered with trash, but these creatures aren't just flung about haphazardly.  They're carefully placed, hidden between hydrangea bushes and underneath rhododendrons.  You have to look for them to find them.

I came across a big, fat, ceramic bluebird yesterday.  It was in her front lawn and guarding an azalea bush.  

"Bluebird of happiness!"  My mother came by, checking out what I was photographing.

"I see that."

"Well?  Doesn't it make you happy?"

I thought for a minute.  I felt revitalized after being socially reconnected with my friend and family.  I felt ready to make the medical changes necessary to accommodate the new condition and to take change of my diabetes management once more.  I felt loved.  Supported.  Happy.

"It does, Mom.  That fat bird totally makes me happy."  She grinned at me. 

Onward, right?  All I can do is get over the bad news and move forward towards something better.  Good health is one day at a time.

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 12:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (23) | TrackBacks (0)

The paperwork has been on my desk, but I kept staring at it for a long time.  And by "long time," I mean three full months.  I kept finding reasons to put it off - my wedding was coming, I was busy at work, my shirt sleeves were too long - but the real reason was because I knew the number would be kind of crap.  A1Cs are never fun, and they serve as a sort of diabetes report card.  With my stress levels being a little out of control during the wedding ramp-up, my numbers followed suit.  And I didn't want to know what my A1C was, out of fear and stubbornness. 

But on Tuesday, I turned my brain off for a bit.  I grabbed the paperwork, left my office, and drove directly to the blood work lab.  I refused to psyche myself out (and I tried really hard not to think about the pinchy needle easing into that tender part of my arm ... not a fan). 

"Hi, I'm Kerri.  I need to have an A1C drawn."

"Okay, write your name on the sheet here and have a seat."  

I wrote my name, thus making it official.  I was there, for my A1C, and there was no turning back.

I'm not sure why I shy away from this test so much.  I think it's because I have spent over twenty years putting so much of my self-worth into this percentage.  When it comes back under 7%, I feel like these moments of diabetes difficulty are worth the effort.  I feel strong and confident, like I'm really making strides in achieving good health.

But the bummer numbers.  The ones that are over 7% and cause the endocrinologist to check the "uncontrolled type 1 diabetes" box.  My Internal Motivational Speaker screams in protest at this box checking.  "Hey!  Uncontrolled?  Dude, she's paying attention and really putting forth a huge effort to manage this disease!"  I get overwhelmed by the possibility of complications and maybe not having a healthy pregnancy.  The parts of this disease that I try not to think about, try not to focus on, creep into my thoughts and whisper in my ear.

The phlebotomist put the rubber thing around my bicep, asking me to make a fist.  "To bring out your vein," she said, preparing the needle.

"Oooh, I'm not a fan of needles," I admitted.  

"But you take needles all the time, right?  With the diabetes?"  She tapped my arm a few times with her finger.

"Sort of.  I have a pump.  And a CGM," I gestured to the Dexcom sensor on the back of my arm.  "This takes blood sugar results for me so I don't have to prick my finger so much."

"Aye!  The finger prick!  I do not like that so much at all.  I am a diabetic type 2.  The finger pricking makes me all ... " she made a face to let me know how much the finger pricks stung.  "I do not enjoy it."

"Well I don't enjoy having blood taken.  That's why I am nervous."

She laughed at me softly.  "And that's why you are staring at the wall instead of looking at your arm, right?"

"Damn straight."   

Now I wait.  I should have my results in a few days, and I'm really hoping that this A1C result doesn't reflect the weeks of stress and honeymoon and worky bits.  I hope it shows the hours at the gym, the healthy eating, and the constant monitoring.  Either way, knowing this number is important.  Some would say it's half the battle.  But I wouldn't end this post with a silly reference to GI Joe ... would I?

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 11:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (22) | TrackBacks (0)

Dear Insurance Company,

I got your letter yesterday.  I opened it up and saw your second denial.

"Our Medical Director has decided to uphold the initial adverse determination because this monitoring system has not been proven to be any more effective in the management of diabetes mellitus than the standard monitoring."

I disagree.

I test my blood sugar 15 times per day.  I test when I wake up, before I eat, after I eat, before I exercise, while I exercise, before I sleep, and sometimes in the middle of the night.  I also test when I feel "off."  I try to catch the fluctuations as often as I can and I respond accordingly.  Unfortunately, I am only seeing snapshots with this "standard monitoring," instead of the streaming video I get from a CGM.  Maintaining tight control is difficult with only snapshots of information.

I got married two months ago and my husband and I are planning to start a family in the next year or so.  As a type 1 diabetic for over 21 years, preparing my body for baby is a bit of a daunting task.  My endocrinologist has told me to bring my A1C as close to 6% as possible.  I am starting the Pregnancy Clinic at Joslin at the end of the summer and am working hard to run my numbers tight.  Unfortunately, running at a tighter clip results in more low blood sugars. 

Sometimes I don't feel my low blood sugars.  I've felt perfectly fine and then tested to see a result of 38 mg/dl or 41 mg/dl or 45 mg/dl.  These are not safe numbers.  As a result of my efforts to lower my A1C, it takes longer for me to feel the lows.  I have hypoglycemic unawareness.  A CGM would keep me safer from these undetected lows.  And when I'm pregnant, it would protect me and my baby - at no extra cost to your company. 

And in January 2003, my then-boyfriend woke up to find me unresponsive and sweaty.  He tried to get me to drink juice but I fought him off.  The paramedics were called and it took three of them to hold me down and administer glucose.  After a tube of glucose gel, my blood sugar was 44 mg/dl.  Had my ex not woken up, discovered I was low, and called the paramedics, I may have died.  Let's just think about that for a minute, okay?  Dead, thanks to a low blood sugar that I did not wake up for.  A CGM would have warned me about my falling glucose with a loud and relentless BEEEEEEEP.  I would have woken up, tested, and most likely caught this low at 60 mg/dl instead of whatever low I achieved that morning.

While I believe that your company should respond to these issues on an empathetic and proactive level, you may only care about the financial aspects of this issue.  I offer the following:

The Dexcom unit I am using was given to me by the company.  You would not need to purchase the receiver unit or the transmitter at this time.  This is a savings of $1000.00.  What I am looking to cover is the cost of Dexcom sensors, which are $240 for four sensors.  Over the course of a year, these sensors would cost $2,880.

To offset this cost, I would be testing less frequently.  I would go from testing 15 times a day to approximately 7 times, saving $5.00 a day.  Over the course of a year, I would be using 2,920 less test strips.  With test strips costing approximately $1.00 apiece, this would be a savings of $2,920 per year. ... Wait a minute, that's saving more than the sensors are costing.  Looks like you guys just made $40, not to mention co-pays for these items! 

We should also factor in the cost of an ambulance ride, if I were to have another low that required assistance.  Medical intervention could cost upwards of $1,000.  The CGM is a measure that could prevent this cost from occurring.   

These are just the immediate cost savings to your company.  Never mind the savings that will accrue long-term, when my body remains healthy as a result of achieving a tight A1C instead of developing expensive diabetes-related complications.

Overall, it makes more financial sense to invest in a CGM for me.  Proactive measures will keep me from costing insurance companies large sums in the future, when more serious issues may arise as a result of several decades of diabetes.  

And, as an added bonus, I will be healthier.  Imagine that.

I am looking forward to your response.  

Sincerely,
Kerri Morrone Sparling 

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 11:25 AM | Permalink | Comments (32) | TrackBacks (0)

I know this is how it will go when I get to the dentist's office:

Dental Hygenist:  Okay, Kerri.   You just need to sit right back here and relax.

Kerri's Mind:  No relaxing.  No relaxing at all.  Get that freaking bib away from me. I do not want to sit in this damn chair.

Kerri:  Sure thing.

Dental Hygenist:  Great!  So let's just get started with your cleaning, okay?  First, I'll stuff your face with cotton balls and then scrape at your mouth with this metal hook.

Kerri's Mind:  Get the hell away from me.

Kerri:  Sure.  

Dental Hygenist:  You haven't been to the dentist in about a year.  Why such a long gap between cleanings?

Kerri's Mind:  You people terrify me.  It hurts when you scrape around in my mouth and the anxiety just about kills me.  I hate coming to the dentist.  I'd rather take a plane ride.

Kerri:  Oh you know - I've been really busy with work and traveling home and all that stuff.  (Nervous laugh.)

Dental Hygenist:  Okay, well it looks like you have some build-up.  Let me just balance my elbows on your jaw while I dig around in here.  Then the dentist will come in and make you cry.

Kerri's Mind:  This is f-ing torture.

Kerri:  No problem.  Thanks.

I am long overdue for a teeth cleaning and a dental check-up.  I've been reading through the diabetes and oral care articles at work and they've made me realize that I need to get my arse to the dentist.  While I brush my teeth several times a day with my Oral B Super Jazzy Toothbrush, floss daily, and use mouthwash to prevent gingivitis, these at-home dental moments aren't a substitute for a real teeth cleaning.  I just have the world's most sensitive teeth and every moment at the dentist's office is completely uncomfortable. 

Is a fear of the dentist irrational?  I have to go, though, right?  My parents spent a fortune on braces ... I think I owe it to them to have a cleaning.  Sigh.

Diabetes, you force me to make responsible decisions sometimes.   Arghhhh!

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 11:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (17) | TrackBacks (0)

I received a letter today from Oxford Health Plans, denying my request for CGM coverage.  "Our Medical Director has determined that the request is:  Denied - Not Medically Necessary."

My First-Level Appeal letter is below.  This is the first round of a potentially long battle, but I'll see it through as far as I can, I promise.  A price tag on my health?  I don't think so.  Here's hoping they listen.

"June 17, 2008

Clinical Appeals Department
c/o Oxford Health Plans, Inc.
PO Box 7078
Bridgeport, CT  06601-7078

To Whom It May Concern:

On September 11, 1986, I was denied a normal childhood when I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.  My parents were taught to measure my food, test my blood sugar, and inject insulin into my body.  We were taught about diabetes complications and how they may end my life.  We were taught to plan for the worst and hope for the best.  This was my mortality, handed to me when I was just a child.

On January 27, 2003, I was denied the ability to control my blood sugars with insulin injections alone.  My medical team determined that my diabetes would be best controlled with an insulin pump instead of multiple daily injections.  Thanks to my hard-working medical team and my personal dedication to good health, I started using an insulin pump.  My A1Cs have been lowered and my risk of diabetes-related complications lessened, thanks to the benefit of this technology.

On April 15, 2006, I was denied the symptoms of a low blood sugar while I was at the movies.  Thanks to my years of hard work and my desire to keep my diabetes as well-controlled as possible, my body was less sensitive to the symptoms of low blood sugars.  Therefore, a blood sugar of 27 mg/dl snuck up on me without warning, leaving me moments from a diabetic coma.   Currently, I experience severe hypoglycemic unawareness, leaving my body at risk for potentially lethal, undetected low blood sugars.

On May 18, 2008, I was denied a wedding without diabetes.  Surrounded by friends and family, and with my husband-to-be standing proudly at the front of the church, I walked down the aisle.  My mother cried, later admitting she always feared I would not see this day in good health.  My blood sugar plummeted, without warning, before the first dance as a result of my excitement.  I did not feel the symptoms.  I spent my first dance with my husband clinging to his arm, trying to focus and waiting for the glucose tabs I had just eaten to raise my blood sugar.

On June 13, 2008, I was denied health insurance coverage for a continuous glucose monitor by Oxford Health Plans. 

I am twenty-nine years old and have spent more than two decades living with type 1 diabetes.  My wedding was barely a month ago.  I am so excited to start a family with my loving husband.  I will not be denied the chance to have a healthy pregnancy.  I will not let my mother be denied a good night’s sleep because she’s worried her daughter will have an undetected hypoglycemic episode in the middle of the night.  I will not let my husband be denied a healthy wife. 

A Dexcom continuous glucose monitoring system receiver costs $800. The sensors cost $240.00 for a pack of four.  Over the course of a year’s non-daily use, the Dexcom system will cost approximately $1,800.00.   

Compare this cost to that of laser surgery to treat diabetic retinopathy.  Or the cost for kidney dialysis or transplant.  Or the cost of daily medications to treat high blood pressure, cholesterol elevation, or kidney disease.  Or the cost of an amputation, as well as any attendant costs for rehabilitation and lifestyle adjustment.   Please be advised that keeping me healthy now will save your company from greater expense later; preventative measures taken at the present time will mitigate the overall financial loss your company would otherwise incur in the future. 

Denying my claim to protect your company’s bottom line is to deny my chance for a long and healthy life. You have marked my claim as 'not medically necessary.'  You have boldly put a price tag on my health. 

Your denial may cost me my life.  I urge you to reconsider your decision.

Sincerely,
Kerri Morrone Sparling"

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 03:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (41) | TrackBacks (0)

(This is a loooong post.  And contains many terms that I just learned today.) 

Dexcom and I are looking forward to being reunited (out of sensors at the moment), but before we can do our Dex-y dance again, I need to get this stuff covered by my insurance plan.  My contact at Dexcom put me in touch with their insurance management team, and they've been working hard to get the proverbial ball rolling.

I spoke with one of the reps earlier in the week.  She was very hopeful about insurance coverage, telling me she'd start processing the claim through Oxford Health (they are my insurance provider) and would touch base with me with the good news.  I laughed.

"Good news?  Let's be honest.  There's rarely ever any good news when it comes to insurance ... anything.  So let's assume they'll reject it, and we'll create a battle plan from there."

She laughed.

"Right.  A battle plan!  I'll contact you as soon as I have any new information."

True to their word, an email came in from Dexcom yesterday. 

"Hi Kerri,
We have not had any luck in getting other patients through Oxford. We also tried to go through a distributor without any luck. So, we are going to ask Oxford for a predetermination or "one-off" approval. We may need to come back to you for more information should they request it. We will keep pushing on our end.
Your plan does provide for DME devices (the DexCom products are a DME benefit). However, you have a $1,000 deductible, with $0 met to date. After that, your coverage is at 70%.
Thanks,
(Dexcom Guy)"

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 11:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (25) | TrackBacks (0)

We saw it last night - SiCKO.  And I have to admit - I walked out feeling a bit tangled.

Michael Moore gets people talking.  You don't have to like him and you can call him "un-American."  You can hate his films.  You can love his films.  The fact of the matter is that his films start discussions, and these discussions are necessary.

That disclaimer tossed out there, the film generated a big "sigh" from me.  The first half of it, showing images of people working three jobs to cover their healthcare expenses, negotiating "which finger to reattach" after an accidental amputation based on what a patient can afford, and the stress of making sense of insurance denials.  This portion resonated for me on several levels.  The battles faced not by someone without health insurance but by the Americans who have it.

I thought about my own insurance battles.  Like the hoops I had to jump through to have my insulin pump covered as a "medical necessity."  Or when insurance companies told me that "four test strips a day is enough for a type 1 diabetic," not taking into account any hypoglycemic unawareness, jaunts to the gym, or the need to know if I'm steady before going to bed.   I thought about the pump infusion sets I've used for more than their prescribed length because I couldn't afford the copays for an extra box of sets.  The phone calls to insurance representatives that include phrases like, "Um, I need it to live," and "I can't believe you're telling me, a diabetic, that testing my blood sugar isn't necessary."

Michael Moore makes several talking points that Chris and I talked about for the rest of the night.  Moments in the film where Moore illustrates how keeping a society blanketed in debt makes them more dedicated (desperate?) members of the workforce.  This was disturbing to me, as I thought about people I knew who worked 70 hour work weeks at incredibly trying jobs, just so that they can have medical insurance. 

The part of this film that I didn't like was Moore's blinders-on view of universal health care.  No system is perfect.  He made it seem as though after the film finished, I needed to grab my passport and go ex-Pat, heading off to France or Britain or even hopping the border to Canada.  I do think that countries practicing preventative care vs. acute care are far smarter than the reactive United States, but I don't want to pack my bags and trot off to France.  I would rather help change to happen within our own borders and take measures to fix a problem instead of abandoning it.  Aren't we a force to be reckoned with, the blogosphere?  Aren't we some of the voices that Big Pharma thinks about nervously, right before they fall asleep at night?

(Whoa, Kerri.  A bit idealistic today.  Don't you want to go to France?  They have unlimited sick days.  And government employees who do your laundry.  Stop humming "The Greatest Love of All ...")

I'm fine with doing my own laundry.  I'm fine with working hard and earning my medical insurance.  But I'm not fine with being told that my medicine isn't "covered" or "necessary" or that insurance companies would rather pay for my dialysis vs. my insulin pump.  Preventative care is what protects people with diabetes, keeping our potential diabetes-related complications quiet longer.  Being plucked for every cent we earn, or worse denied, for that preventative care is cruel.

Go see this movie.  See what gnaws at you. 

Posted by Kerri Morrone Sparling at 10:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)