OMG MY PHONE.
A sentiment that comes tumbling out as one, single word, and impales me right through my social-media obsessed heart. (Not really my social media obsessed heart, but the heart of someone who is in phone-tether-mode thanks to my littlest Bird, my job, and my diabetes-related discomfort at the thought of being out-of-contact with people who provide emergency medical care, should it ever be required.)
Being prepared is my unofficial mantra, and one I follow through on, according to the size of my purse. I really try hard to be ready for diabetes needs, child needs, and random needs through the contents of my purse. (Glucose tabs for lows? Got ‘em. A pack of gum for when blood sugars make my teeth feel squirrely? Nailed. Snacks for Birdzone? Supplied. Wallet and keys required for making the car go places? Yep. Ubiquitous back-up insulin pen of Humalog that’s hopefully not expired, and CGM receiver, and glucose meter? Mmmm hmmm. And a stash of weird items – quarters, plastic green army men, parking receipts for the airport garage, dead test strips, and pieces of chewed gum wrapped up in Dunkin Donut receipts … gross, I know.)
Weirdly enough, if I was away from home and didn’t have my insulin pump attached, I wouldn’t panic. I would test my blood sugar and, depending on how long I was going to be out, would make decisions whether or not to make use of the insulin pen.
But if I left without my phone? A cold, icy wave of panic would wash over me, that same feeling that happens when I pass a police officer speed trap sitting under the overpass on Interstate 95 and I spend the next minute with weak knees and that frantic “Am I about to get a $385 speeding ticket?” feeling.
I need a priorities detox.