For nearly four years I have not known the feel of a syringe, the gentle ease at which it slides in under the skin, the smooth, non-evasiveness of its short metal tip, and the non-existent flinches, pinches, and pokes that often result with infusions.
I was happy not knowing…
The day after Jog for the Bog my blood sugars went into a panicked state. Almost right from the moment I got up they were high, not overly high, but high enough for me to be annoyed. I kept giving myself extra doses of insulin in an effort to bring the sugars down, but none worked.
By dinner, they were 11.5, and creeping up into the Holy crap, what the hell is going on??? hyperglycemic zone. More insulin. Two hours later they were 15.8. More insulin. One hour later, they were 16.8. At this point, most people would probably change out their infusions. But not me. Just like my blood sugars, I, too, can be super stubborn. Plus, it was nearing 11, my eyes were droopy, my body heavy, all I wanted was sleep. The BG lethargy had taken over.
When I awoke at 2 a.m. to check again, they were 16.7. HOLY FREAKING FRICK! Desperate times. I stumbled over to the wardrobe where I keep my diabetes supplies, I rifled through a box until I found the unopened emergency baggy of old-school syringes. I pulled one out, drew up three units of insulin, pulled up some belly fat, and slid her in. It was the first time in nearly four years I’ve done so.
Immediate thoughts: Huh… that was the easiest injection I’ve given myself since going on the pump. Huh… had it always been that easy? Huh… why the heck are infusion needles so bloody long? Huh… how the hell am I to go back to injecting infusions, knowing their pains, when I’ve just had a taste of comfortable bliss? Huh….
Like I said, it’s sometimes better not remembering.
I switched out my infusion, which, let me just say, at 2 a.m. takes a helluva LOT longer than any other time of the day!!! I thoroughly examined that sucker but nothing appeared wrong. The canula was straight as an arrow, not bent out of shape in any which way; the infusion site was perfectly clear, no redness at all; the tubing wasn’t kinked; and while there were a few air bubbles in the reservoir, it was nothing that should have caused those kinds of BG numbers.
The only thing amiss was the state of my pump’s battery. I had been getting a low-battery alert for a few hours prior to bed, but I figured I could push the battery through to the morning. And it didn’t outright die, there was still juice in there, so again, I’m doubting that the culprit. Just another one of those ugh, frustratingly awful diabetes mysteries I guess.
By 6:30 a.m., my BG was back down to a happy 5.4 … all thanks to the old-school injection!