Last week, I ripped an infusion set off my arm – by accident – with such force that I knocked the “teeth” clean off the part that connects with the “hub.”  It happened sort of in slow-motion, with BSparl hollering “Maaaaa maaaaaa!” and the pump site disconnecting in a way that sort of sounded like a wet tennis ball hitting a racket.

The infusion set hub thing flew across the kitchen and landed in an unknown place that even a full (and literal) sweep of the floor didn’t recover it.  My arm was sore.  My pride was, too.  

I am Kerri’s swift and sudden gracelessness, and I’m as chronic as diabetes.

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