Finally, A Useful Upgrade

I just received the new Minimed pump. It now asks stupid questions to remind me to do things I instinctually do because I have been pumping so long. After I prime the tubing, it asks me, "Do you see drops at the end of the tubing?" I usually yell at it, "You think I would have stopped priming if I didn't?" I wish I knew how to hack into its software and program it to ask more relevant and helpful questions. Maybe questions Stewart Smalley would have been proud of. "Did you know you are a really good athlete?" "Did you know that book you're writing is going to be read and loved by millions?" Or maybe it could just make statements. "You deserve a vacation today. Take the day off and don't even think about feeling guilty for it." "All the work you do to take care of your diabetes everyday is paying off. You are a better person for it and will live a long and complication free life." Now that would be an upgrade I would pay for. - See more at: http://erinspineto.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2012-08-31T14:43:00-07:00&max-results=6&start=35&by-date=false#sthash.ekViUZtY.dpuf

Fine Tuning

I have recently moved my infusion sight down to my outer thigh and have been having huge problems with it. I usually rotate the site locations depending on the season. Spring and summer, when I am in a bathing suit more than not, require that I hide the site under a bikini so it goes into my upper butt between where the pocket of my jeans is and the waistband.

Fall and winter make it easier to put it into my upper thigh since I spend most of my days in jeans and skirts and the only place I get into a swim suit is at the Y to get in a workout so I am less concerned with my appearance.

After three successful years of this, I have found my system faltering. My butt has developed scar tissue which hinders the insulin from getting from the infusion set to my blood stream where I can actually use it. I thought it might be time to make the switch to the upper thigh to give my butt some time to heal.

As soon as I did I started pulling out sets when I changed clothes. I had to train myself to be careful of the new spot and then I would be fine, I told myself. After a week and ten different sites being pulled out, I got the hang of it and stopped accidentally pulling out sites. But then I started to notice that the sites would go bad after only a day.

When I first started using an insulin pump the sites I used, like mini IV's, would stay open and useful for seven to ten days at a time. I loved not having to poke myself or remember to change a set for a whole week or more. As time has worn on that period of time has been reduced greatly, mostly due to scar tissue.

I have had to abandon using my stomach due to the scarring and now my thighs and butt are both showing signs of deterioration as well. I just wonder how many more body parts are viable options. Am I, in ten years, going to have to affix this thing to my ankle?

Luckily my ankles have very little fat. But of course this means I can't use them as an infusion site. Maybe my chest will have to do, though, I am not sure how much Tony will like the looks of that one.

So what are those other sites I have been overlooking, ones that I will not pull out easily,but have not scarred up ye?. Or maybe there's some new technological advance to erase the scar tissue so I could go back to the old reliable sites?

Plan B Book

I have two sides to my personality, one that likes to fly free, moving on every whim of desire and taking every opportunity as soon as it presents itself, and the other, which is my practical side. It’s my practical side that likes to prepare and research and plan for every possible obstacle.

Single-handed sailing through the Florida Keys this February will provide a place for both sides of my personality to work together as one unit. While at sea all alone, I will be free to change course, to get a closer look at an island that catches my eye, to slow down and follow a manatee eating lunch, to find the craziest, out-of-the-way dive bar to grab some hot food and recharge my batteries (both my actual batteries- cell phone, laptop, GPS, and my more figurative batteries-, a friendly face, stable ground, and a warm meal). But because of my diabetes, I will need to do a great deal of behind the scenes planning and preparation before I ever set foot on that boat.

One of my latest preparations is writing my own emergency manual, my Plan B Book. For the non-diabetic world this might consist of a first aid manual and the number of the Coast Guard.

For me, it is a thirty page book organized from the most extreme emergency to the least. If I need major medical care (short of a call to the Coast Guard to bring in the helicopters and rescue divers), I will need to get myself to a hospital, which is easier said than done. If I were on a typical road trip, I wouldn’t even bother to find the names of any hospitals along the way. The amazing 911 system takes the hard work out of it. Simply call, tell them where you are and in a few minutes you’re safe.

On a boat, it is a whole new game. You can’t exactly pull the boat up into the hospital parking lot and jump out to find a nice orderly waiting with a wheelchair. Thus, my creation of the Plan B Book. The first pages are for every hospital and emergency medical center in the Florida Keys. Each page includes a map of the hospital and at least three docks nearby.

For each dock, I need the longitude and latitude, address to give to the ambulance driver, the phone number of the dock master so he knows why I am crashing at his dock, and in case I can’t contact an ambulance, the path I would walk to get to the hospital.

After that, follows the plans for the mishaps. The “I forgot to pack my Symlin,” or the “Oh crap. I just dumped all of my test strips into the ocean,” or the “I never even thought of what the Florida heat would do to my insulin” mumbled as I roll the insulin bottle around in my hands and notice that the once clear liquid is now chunky and white.

So in the next few pages are the addresses and phone numbers of every pharmacy in the Keys, all five pages of them, divided by region. And just in case there is not a single one who will transfer my prescription (which of course I have every one listed with the prescription number and phone number of each pharmacy who holds the prescription), I have the number of the only endocrinologist in the Keys in case she might take pity on me and give me one of those free samples of insulin or strips or whatever it was that I ruined, or lost, or forgot.

My preparation goes far beyond the Plan B Book, too. It covers knowing that things happen: airlines lose luggage, I lose my mind and forget to pack things, electrical systems on a boat can break and leave my fridge as nothing more than a cheap cooler without any ice packs to keep it cool. So I pack multiples of everything I need and I pack them in multiple locations and in multiple contraptions.

I pack four blood glucose meters, one in each backpack, one in a waterproof Otterbox below deck and one in my ditch bag, just in case. I bring six vials of insulin, enough to keep me alive for five months, and hide it in all of the same spots as the meters and two more in the fridge.

I pack my insulin pump, my old insulin pump, a loaner insulin pump from Minimed, and even needles (which I have not used to inject insulin in the thirteen years I’ve been pumping) in case all three pumps break. I bring Nick, my preferred Dexcom CGMS with his extra sensors, and Johnny, my back up CGMS system, with his extra sensors.

My bags will be so full with back up diabetes supplies, I will only be able to fit one swimsuit and one pair of shorts into the remaining spaces. Looks like shirts will have to wait for another trip.

After spending countless hours thinking of everything that can go wrong, and five ways to fix each problem, after packing and repacking to get all the extra equipment, equipment that I will probably never even use, to fit into my two bags, and after spending time typing up and printing my Plan B Book, I can shut down the practical side to my personality and fully embrace my footloose and fancy free side because I know all of my bases have been covered, and a few extra ones at that. I will be able to fully focus on the beauty in front of me, the one hundred miles I have to cover, and the diabetes that I will be conquering by not letting it stop me from living my dreams.