Yesterday afternoon, when I went to calibrate my Dexcom, the wheel-o-everything (that wheel on the right hand side of the receiver that is used to calibrate, view the graph, set alarms … everything) made a very soft clicking sound, not unlike the sound my old computer made when I pressed on the F key and then it came loose off the keyboard. But I refused to accept the implication of the sound, and I calibrated and then patted the receiver on the screen. “There, there. You’re fine. You’re not breaking. Nope.”
I’d read about broken Dexcom receivers in the past, but this receiver had been in my life (and also my purse, my Spibelt, my car, my suitcase, et to the mega cetera) since November 2012. It’s held on remarkably well for a device that’s toted around everywhere with me.
But last night, it finally gave up. And this morning, the wheel, housing, and all plastic accompaniments went kaput.
(Yes, I tried to enter the calibration it was asking for by poking around in the fleshy part of the under-circle. <— technical term No dice.)
Now I’m data-free until my replacement receiver arrives, and I’m trying to resist the urge to check my blood sugar every hour on the hour. Taking a breather from diabetes devices when I choose to is one thing, but having the option removed without a co-sign from me is stressing me right the eff out.