We All Make Mistakes.

Nobody is perfect, right? We all make mistakes. We all forget things. It’s part of human nature.

Sometimes, I feel like when it comes to Diabetes- mistakes are kind of a no-no. Making a mistake or forgetting something isn’t taken very lightly. I mean, yeah, what happens because of mistakes or forgetting something can definitely have an impact when it comes to the ‘Betes. I understand the concern. Forgetting insulin, to check, low supplies, etc. Making mistakes with carb counts, planning, asking if you took your long acting insulin, dropping your pump, etc. They all have an impact- yes, but also “We’re only human.”


I remember once I forgot my meter as a teenager (not the only time- just one of the times), and I was getting in trouble and asked if I did it on purpose.

So of course, I pulled out my “sass.” I started saying- well my brain isn’t fully developed, as a teen there’s a lot going inside my brain- and being forgetful is a part of it. Remember? It’s science.

That did not go over very well… But really, sometimes- I just forget or I make mistakes (being human, ADHD, etc).


Mistakes happen, but yesterday I made one right after the other and all related to Diabetes. Yesterday was one Dia-Fail right after the other.

(Glad I’m not Sam from “Supernatural” reliving Tuesday’s- no thanks!)


At 5 right before I left work, I start to go low so I have a juice.

I wait a bit. I see that I’ve gone up enough and begin my walk to the T Station. I’m chilling in the 80’s and 90’s with an 80% temp basal. I get to the T station and my train starts coming. I hear the room-attention-seeking “Beep beep” of my CGM. I plummeted to below 55. I get on the train and search for tabs. Mistakes… Should have not gotten on and bought a low snack instead.

I cannot find the tabs anywhere. I take everything out of my backpack. Still cannot find them. I turn my basal off. I find two pieces of candy.  Mistakes…

But I know myself. I know this is not enough.

At this point I’m communicating with my housemate. She’ll be picking me up at the T Station.

There are no vending machines in the T Station. I search my bag again. Nothing. I notice that the school near the station has something going on. My survival instincts kick in. 

I walk into the school. A teacher sees me. (At this point my low brain is turned on to the max). I blurt out. “I have type 1. I cannot find my low supplies- they either didn’t make it to my bag or I lost them. I cannot find them. Do you have something? Juice. Snacks. Please help.”

We go to the kitchen to look for something- I spot graham crackers.

I hear someone go “Type 1 represent.” I turn around- it’s a teenage girl who saw my CGM. She has type 1 as well.

I blurt out “cannot find my tabs.”

She says “it happens.” With a smile. (The little things right?)

Side note, the fact that the school has a T1D student is an important reason for them to know about Type 1. But then ya know, people in a tricky situation (like myself) benefit from this knowledge as well.

I’m grateful for kind people. I’m “extra” grateful for kind people who know about T1D.


I wait for my ride- grateful for food- still in 50’s. I stuff my face with a few packs of crackers.  My ride shows up, and we go to dinner.

I order lemonade to bring me up. I then order food. I then order dessert- I was still on the low side and chocolate lava cake with ice-cream sounded like it would hit the spot- I had lactaid. and #Treatyoself


I start to eat my lava cake. Realize I forgot to give insulin. Mistakes… I look down at my pump….

I only have one unit left…. Mistakes….

I reach into my pocket to grab my spare insulin pen I carry around. I’ve been going on this- I must not waste insulin kick -lately….

When I realize I don’t have it. I can see the pen… sitting on my desk at work because I had re-organized my bag and didn’t put it back in. Mistakes….

When we get home, I immediately change my site. Check my BG again because of course the sensor failed because I’m pretty sure I ran into something during my low brain. Mistakes… I’m in the upper 300’s. I give insulin. Check for ketones.

I dump out my bag and you know what falls out? My bottle of tabs… Welp. Guess from the low and resulting “low brain” I wasn’t able to locate them. Mistakes…

I immediately replenish my snacks and emergency snacks- still have my emergency cash. I make sure everything is already opened if possible (because for some reason low supplies are hard to open on a normal day and basically impossible if you are low.)

So yeah- another mistake- I hadn’t replenished all of my spare snacks. Something I definitely struggle to do and something I’m working on- just like restocking on emergency pumpsites… oops. Mistakes….

I wait for my BG to start coming down before I go to bed. I believe I fell asleep before 11. Slept like a sleep champion! Go me! This morning I woke up at 190. I’ll take it.


Mistakes. Mistakes Everywhere. #Diafails. Everywhere.

Yesterday was one of those days. And the only factor was myself. Besides being a little scared… I was mostly embarrassed... Thinking to myself- I’m a young adult- that was too many mistakes. But. Today is a new day- and I’m only human. I’m also my own worst critic.

Things I took from yesterday- I’m grateful for the little and not so little things. The teenage girl with T1D who got it (love spotting people in the wild). Grateful for the friends who have T1D who get it, but also grateful for the non-T1D peeps who step in in times of need and grateful for education and awareness. I’m also glad that I’ve gotten way better at asking for help.


(Not my photo- from Type 1 Diabetes Memes)

I almost had an endo appointment today, and not going lie- glad I didn’t. But if they ask me at my next appointment “what happened on this day?”

My response? “Mistakes and Dia-Fails.”

My reaction to “Many Schools Failing on Type 1 Diabetes Care”

Here I am, with a long post.

I’m supposed to be asleep, and I can’t. So I’m gonna get my thoughts out and go to bed, hopefully. I couldn’t fit them all into the character limit of a tweet. So I’m calling this a reaction- my feelings on the subject as well as some mini “flashbacks.”

(Since this is a late night reaction piece- I am including a disclaimer that my thoughts are more scattered, I haven’t done as much organizing and proofreading that I usually do- but I had to get it out).

The article in the NY Times has me going, well a lot of people going. Has me worked up all over again. Thinking back on my personal experiences and the stories I have heard.

I’ve written about 504 Plans/advocacy in the school system in the past.

Some people are shocked that this happens, but sadly I’m not. Based off my experiences (which I know weren’t the worst, but they weren’t the best) and the countless papers, presentations, and projects I worked on in college, specifically related to 504 Plans- makes this so. . This lack of time, knowledge, and resources apply to parents and the families. There’s a lot of room for interpretation when it comes to 504 Plans and rights.

Of course the numbers aren’t accurate- The number of families that face problems with school systems is higher- it often goes back to Socioeconomic status (SES). Many families do not have the resources, time, or knowledge for advocacy and 504 Plans. and sometimes neither do the schools. The further you get away from major hubs like major cities, the worse this tends to be. I could sit and rant on this soap box for ages, but since I need to go to bed, I will make this short and to the point.

My family and I were not made aware of 504 plans until I was 14. That was 7 years after my diagnosis in 2007. I was overall pretty lucky that nothing came up.

When I was diagnosed with Type 1, we did not have a school nurse. The next year we got a school nurse- specifically because of me.

We had to fight to make sure I didn’t get held back a year when I was diagnosed too.

From the moment I was diagnosed, there was a constant stream of bullying surrounding the T1D (and other parts of my life).

Every year, I would join my parents in educating my teachers about Type 1. I started reading a children’s book about type 1 to my classmates and telling the teacher about how Diabetes was for me. I was lucky because if my dad wasn’t traveling for work, he was working from home, and my mom had flexibility with her job (to an extent). When my dad passed away, it definitely became a little more difficult when it was just a team of two.

Middle school arrived, and I started having more problems. For the most part, all of my teachers were actually wonderful with the T1D. On Team Mindy. Thank Goodness. Administration was the problem.

When I finally got a 504 plan, we had to fight to get the meetings and get everything squared away. Administration wanted me to go on an IEP instead of a 504 plan. But that’s not what I needed.

I had a teacher who made me carry my agenda to check in with the nurse in middle school- which had never happened before- but I chose my battles.

Two assistant principals, a new one in 7th grade and a new one in 8th grade, actually tried to take my pump off my hip the first week of school saying it was a phone, pager, or mp3. If it hadn’t been for my teachers coming to my rescue, I think I would have gotten in a lot of trouble for what I call sass…

In 8th grade when I had a roller coaster event with blood sugars on a field trip, one of the assistant principal’s went behind my back and my mom’s- and called an ambulance because “those blood sugars aren’t normal.”

Throughout middle school, I would have to prove that I could participate in activities. I had a teacher who was not happy that he had to attend the 504 plan meeting and gave me hell for the rest of the year. I’m not a kid to get in trouble, but he would find ways. I once had to go above and beyond to prove to him that I was at an endo appointment and not skipping class so he wouldn’t write me up. Apparently I forged my note.

A substitue teacher once told me I was faking it and tried to not let me leave to go to the nurse. But remember that sass? I left anyways.

I at least have to say, that in elementary and middle school, I had a place to store my supplies.

Before high school, we toyed with the idea of switching school systems because we were tired of all of this, the battles with administration. But I wanted to stay because my friends and my teachers (for the most part) were rock stars when it came to the betes. At least I had that option.

In high school, they would lock my spare supplies in a cabinet in the attendance office. Again, we had no nurse. When I learned of this, my mom and I fought to make sure I could keep my meter on hand. They didn’t want me to carry anything, but I was allowed to in middle school. I just needed daily check-ins.

I then had a not quite emergency, but I had to leave band practice because I was bleeding into my pumpsite and the attendance office was locked. I couldn’t change my site. A family friend had to pick me up.

That was the end of that.

We then fought to get a room and a part time nurse- we got the head nurse of our county involved.

The thing about the part-time nurse, she wanted me treat a blood sugar of 70 with 60 carbs…. I had to fight with her that I didn’t need that much.

The room would still be locked and you would have to search for someone to let you in. At this point, I decided enough was enough and carried everything with me. I never ventured there again. I also had safe places in the school if I needed them.

This did not go over well with administration. From then on, the administration treated me very differently. It didn’t change until my senior year when we got a new principal. I felt like eyes were on me to get in trouble. I would be the first for an outfit check for dress code or to make sure I had my ID badge around my neck. I would have to stop every morning if I went through the main door.

I would have to pull out my agenda every time they saw me in the halls during class, and I was not one to skip. None of the teachers ever checked. It was a small enough school, and to be honest, I was a well-behaved kid.

I found safety with friends and teachers.

After I graduated and had my diploma in hand, I set up an appointment with the superintendent. I was done. I was also scared that if I took too much action something would be jeopardized so I waited. I didn’t want this to happen anymore. He was very receptive to the meeting, and I heard there were actually a few changes made.

My experiences with having Diabetes and fighting for my rights and being treated differently in school did not make me want to register for accommodations in college. I was exhausted. I was over it. I hated the term “disability” because of everything I associated it with. I hated asking for help and felt like I was on my own in the world. I didn’t want another battle, but eventually I registered. I’m glad I did. (see number 3)

I spent 12 years of my K-12 life fighting for things I needed. Knowing that there was rarely someone with a lot of knowledge around me for safety. Knowing I was different. Knowing I had to always be my own advocate.

This is common. This is constant. Another part of Diabetes management that people don’t often talk about or take into account.

This^, the stories I hear, and the research I have done turned this into a huge soap-box for me. Because, it isn’t a simple fix. There’s so many layers to this. There’s SES and a lack of knowledge. An abundance of unwillingness. An abundance of exhaustion. It isn’t okay. But after some research- there’s more to the story- lack of resources, time, and funding impact school systems too (not to say this validates or gives excuses).

We have laws that leave a lot of room for interpretation. We have something in place that has no standards, funding assistance, or concrete training that is available to everyone. Of course it doesn’t always work or work how we want it to. It has to change. (Someday?)

Most people with Diabetes want nothing to do with anything related to the term disability- including care takers and care teams- but change is easier when you are a part of a larger community.

It doesn’t help that there is a lack of education and awareness for T1D. Plus, it’s an invisible illness/invisible disability.

Looks like I did go on for a while? Time for bed.

Getting Stir-Crazy: Diabetes and Getting Sick Addition

I honestly cannot remember the last time I was this sick. To be honest, I don’t think I have been “this” sick since high school.

I also haven’t been sick this often (3 times already) since my freshman year of college. Honestly, I think this is what my first year in Boston will be like especially this winter. I’m exposed to a plethora of new germs, germs that my body isn’t used to yet. So… that’s a big ball of fun. I’m getting hit by all angles; the office, public transportation, plus the people in my life who come into contact with germs. I’ve definitely decided and accepted that I will be sick quite a bit this year (just like my freshman year of college). That doesn’t mean I’m not prepared!

This one, this was a monster cold plus an acute bronchial infection, AND I’m on watch for an asthma flair up. I’m more concerned by the asthma flair up.

Last Tuesday, my throat was feeling scratchy, and I attributed it to the extra-humid day and forgetting my inhaler. By Wednesday, it hadn’t gone away, and I was running around saying I WOULD not get sick. 

I like to think I’m in control of this… I know I’m not, but I like to think if I decide I am NOT getting sick, I won’t.

By the end of the work day, I could really feel it. I was sick. My body ached, and I felt icky. I canceled my running plans and was disappointed with the timing because I had a friend in town…

I went home. Fever of over 100.

I progressively got worse. My fever stayed. Along with a cough, congestion, more icky feelings, body aches, and of course DIABETES INSANITY.

People were telling me to go to the doctor, and I was like nah. I really don’t like going to the doctor.

I got a little bit better Friday and had some hope, and then I got worse again on Saturday. By Sunday night, I caved. I was going to the doctor… joy… (I had someone ask how much worse it got- that proves how much I don’t like going to the doctor).

I scheduled my appointment for Monday, and I went.

I checked in, and (I still cannot get over this)…. I was seen the doctor AT my appointment time. I’m used to waiting forever back in GA, but I haven’t waited more than 5 minutes for an appointment since coming to Boston.

Long story short, if I had come in earlier, they would have put me on something. It was kind of up to me (and if I didn’t start getting better by Thursday or I got worse) if I wanted to take something at this point. My medicine options involved either messing with my blood sugars even more or messing with my stomach and allergies (I’m allergic to penicillin). But if anything changes, I should call for a prescription.

Well, this morning, I didn’t feel any better, but after what I call a MAGIC NAP, I woke up ready to take on the world- fever GONE. Not quite the million dollar man, but I was so stir crazy and had felt so useless for almost a week…. I had to get out of there.

The walk took a lot out of me… but I made it to work… extra excited to be out in the world (on a beautiful day too).

So glad I am FINALLY starting to get better. I’m the biggest baby when it comes to getting sick. I also hate doing “nothing.”

So to the blood sugars. Can we just talk about how much Diabetes and getting sick IS NOT FUN AT ALL.

My basal rate is 250% right now, and that still doesn’t cut it. I’m a little nervous to do anymore. I’m okay with chilling in the upper 100’s to the lower 200’s right now. Every time I eat…. My blood sugar skyrockets every time (no matter how much extra insulin I give). So I’ve been trying to stick to minimal carbs, but I’m not even hungry… so I have to force myself to eat.

I’ve been checking ketones like a mad woman (more than usual)! There were a few moments I was a little scared because of my blood sugars, but the highest amount of ketones I had were small. I was also scared it was the flu because I’ve never had a cold mess with my blood sugars this much…

I’ve been an irritated, sick, Type 1 with high blood sugars who has gone stir crazy because I basically didn’t leave home for 5 days…

But, I had a coffee detox and reset? No coffee for 5 days. The bright side, right?

A Work in Progress.

I’m still a work in progress.

I won’t say I can’t yet because I’m not ready.

I won’t say hold on I need to be just right.

I won’t ignore the other parts of my life, but please- one thing at a time.

You see, I’m still in progress. I’m still working on healing wounds and processing the past. I’m still trying to improve where I see room for growth. I’m still trying to figure things out. Most of these things are very internal and not something you can necessarily see or measure with a finger stick.

You see, I have a long way to go, but I’ve also come a long way.

My expectations of myself are that I should have fixed and dealt with everything by now. But it’s not quick and some things come back in waves triggered by a reminder that can be as swift and quick as the wind, but leaves you picking up pieces you thought you already put away.

I still don’t know what I’m doing, and I’m still working on things from my past.

I’m still in progress, but I can’t and won’t say wait.

I’m still in progress, but I’ll go at my own pace. And try to remind myself how far I have come and that I can’t fix everything with the snap of my fingers. Especially if I want to do it right.

When I sit in your office, I want you to know I’m still a work in progress. That I am a person first. It isn’t just a number. It isn’t just a diagnosis. It isn’t just my past. It’s who I am today (but I know the former plays a role).

I want someone in mental health who understands Type 1 Diabetes, but a Diabetes care team who also gets mental health. Then I want all the other medical professionals to understand it as well– but one can only wish. I want to have a conversation about my health, because I live in my life everyday and you only see a glimpse for maybe 30 minutes to an hour. I won’t be talked at.

I’m still in progress when it comes to Diabetes, but also navigating ADHD and Anxiety. I share that information with you because they all interact in my life.

I get a nod of approval for a lowered A1C or the fact that I upload my CGM every week. But. When I share that I’ve finally stopped checking my blood sugar every 20 minutes if my blood sugar is above target and that I feel better about how I relate to my CGM (well getting better at that)… and I get nothing- it definitely stings.

You immediately start talking about the fact that I must always over-correct lows and highs- (it’s just the highs) and you were only referencing 2 days of data. I say, I’m working on that- I know I tend to rage-bolus, but I can feel I’m not rage-bolusing as often now. I’ve been working on that part of my OCD. But apparently, I should have already fixed that. 

I also shouldn’t have forgotten to switch from my weekend pattern to my weekday pattern- maybe I don’t need patterns. I simply… just forgot- and that was the first time I forgot. I’m only human.

We don’t really talk about the Diabetes and mental health correlation.  You tell me I need to see the mental health person in your office, but I already see someone for my prescription for my ADHD medications. Do I really need to see a second person on top of that? Why can’t we talk about it- even if it is for just a moment?

I don’t want to be talked at- I want to be a part of the conversation. Which I’m sure, isn’t factored into my appointment time. I tend to believe that as a teen and even a young adult, we aren’t taken seriously in a lot of situations- like at the doctor. 

I don’t necessarily want to look forward to my doctor appointments (but that would be nice), but I don’t want to dread them either. I don’t expect a party or anything, but I would like a little recognition for my effort and to take steps to continue to improve my care.

I didn’t appreciate being called a “hard stick” by everyone in the office I came into contact with, repeatedly. I made sure to tell them my veins are hard to find… I asked for someone who has been doing this for a while. I was questioned about why I needed a butterfly needle.

During all of this, I’m trying to compose myself after getting “poked” twice and having a lot of fishing around- and nothing was found- so no blood work was drawn and they comment on that too. I have an ironic fear of needles- especially when it is someone else doing the poking.

I don’t like to look at my form to schedule an appointment and see “for uncontrolled type one diabetes not meeting goals.” We didn’t even talk about my goals, or your goals, or our goals.

I don’t like talking about numbers and care in this sense- but my a1c is in the range that basically everyone recommends. (Yes- I do have some lows, but I feel them and immediately correct- I don’t pass out or have seizures). I check my blood sugars and ketones when appropriate. I make changes when I notice patterns. I use all of the features technology offers me. I do everything that I am supposed to do (and so on).

So, what is “controlled” then. Is it a perfect line in the CGM- with only a very small window? With no lows or highs and a steady straight perfect line. What is control? I’m curious.

What about the thing called human error. What about the thing called life. Language matters and “uncontrolled type one diabetes” and “hard prick” were floating around my head all day that day. I felt defeated at the end of my appointment. I didn’t feel good enough. I have perfectionist tendencies all on my own, and I’m not a fan of the pressure to be perfect from outside sources too. I do that just fine on my own.

and after talking about my rough endo appointment with people in my life- I felt better- then I had my appointment for my ADHD prescription this morning- and it all came flooding back. I felt comfortable with the person I saw in general but also about the type one diabetes. I didn’t feel like I had to explain or educate- so I was appreciative of that. But of course, we go into “history.” I expect this. but then he gets caught up in resiliency and my past- which yes- I know plays a role- but where were these questions and comments when I could have really benefited from them?

I can’t financially afford to experiment with other medications right now. I also don’t really want to either… I was already nervous to go on anything, and this is working for me. I’m sure he wants to find the magic thing… but I also don’t want to run out of medication either. I felt defensive when I didn’t leave with a prescription and was asked to schedule another appointment. It wasn’t a bad experience, but my endo appointment from the week before came flooding back to me.

I’m still a work in progress. I still have a ways to go. I think there will always be room for progress, right? I want room to grow and guidience along the way. But I want you to agree that I am working on things- and sometimes- the center of my universe isn’t Diabetes- which I know can be a shocker. 


I’ve done the transition of care four times now- I hope to not do it again. Sometimes, I feel prepared for the real world (as much as a 22 year old can), and sometimes I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing.

Mother Nature, I’d like to return your gift please. Diabetes doesn’t get along with this gift.

Mother Nature, I’d like to take a rain check.

If you are not quite comfortable with reading or talking about the “Time of the Month,” gift from mother nature- AKA period. Then… this post might not be for you- I won’t be “graphic.”

and sorry for any typos- will fix later if I find some!

I remember a DSMA chat where one of the questions was about acceptance- all in all- I feel like I have pretty much accepted Diabetes (to a point and as much as you can)– then I realized- I do not accept the combination of Diabetes and my period- and to be honest- I really don’t plan on it. 

Each month, I think I have it figured it out. I got the hang of this. I know it’s coming. I know what usually happens. I’ve been doing this for years. I make the needed changes- cross my fingers- hope for the best. But then, I realize- NOPE- let’s play guess and check all over again. 


(it’s like Type 1 Diabetes Memes KNEW I was writing this post today)

Here’s what I know-

First of all- one of my former primary care doctors back in 2006 didn’t want me on Birth Control (BC) because it was all my Diabetes’ fault- ummm- bye- I switched to a different doctor of course- at least they didn’t blame my sprained ankle on Diabetes (still my favorite blame game…)

Why did I want BC?

Two reasons; the excruciating-hospital-inducing-visit-pain-that-wasn’t-regular and the fact that my blood sugar was a complete mess.

How could I plan blood sugar wise if I had no idea when to know when that gift (I would like to return) would come?

My insurance also didn’t want to cover it (back in 2006- but I still battle them on payment and type)….

So now, that the pain is out of the way (for the most part), and I know when it’s coming…

About one day before my period, my blood sugar wants to spike to the 400’s+++. But watch out- I got that temp basal and increased long acting insulin dosage coming for ya the day before because I have it marked on my calendar.

Oh, but you want to make my body more resistant to insulin while running high? That’s what my mega pattern is for aka my Sick/Period Pattern in my pump. My basal rates are higher; carb ratios more heavy duty; and you don’t stand a chance against that correction factor. (at some points it is almost double my usual). BOOM.

Then, as the days go on, I take a little less lantus each day until I get to my normal routine. At the end of it all I return to my normal pattern.

I also check my ketones about 4 times each day because I’ve noticed I’m more prone to them.

All handy-dandy right? Nope. Because each time I think I have it figured out- my body tells me “tricked ya”; I run lower or higher or the roller coaster arrives. So I guess and check again. But at least I’m not awkward 14 year old me who doesn’t like to talk about her period chilling at the hospital because of the pain. 

But wait, I haven’t even acknowledged the “normal” period things. Like my uncontrollable hunger and need for sweets. My overwhelming laziness and exhaustion. My increased anxiety. The pain. It hurts to work out. (those are my usual’s). My mood a few days before is not anywhere near charming (and that’s being polite).

Which, of course, adds to the blood sugar.

And one time the male endo looks at me and goes- so you got that handled now, right? You’ll keep your blood sugars in line during that week. You’re hilarious.

I still remember my family and I thought we had Diabetes all figured out. Then hormones happened and it was back the dry-erase board- I’m still chilling there. Trying to find something that works.

Diabetes, plus my period, plus the teen years- I would say I want to apologize now- but truth be told not really- because the ball isn’t truly in my court.

Part of me thinks that I won’t find the magic button to make Diabetes and my period a-okay. But that’s okay with me. But… I’ll still try to figure it out.

Sorry (not sorry) healthcare providers- I’m most likely not going to work out the first few days of my period. You’ll find me on the couch with Netflix  and Pinterest. Accompanied with  a cupcake or something sweet plus some popcorn and diet-coke. While in my hand, a phone with texts to rant to my friends with Diabetes who get that whole period and Diabetes thing. With my CGM looking like a roller coaster one day, or a mountain the next, or maybe an occasional flat line. While I also want to throw the CGM across the room.

While thinking to myself that I don’t think kids are for me sooo… why? and at the same time so glad that when I studied abroad I got myself a “Moon-cup.”

I can remember the days when I wouldn’t dare talk about my period- those days are long gone.

I’ve been trying to think of a good way to close to this- and I don’t really have one?

besides-Diabetes and my period will probably forever remain something I will never truly accept. (not in the bad kind of way more of the WTF kind of way).

Pump-Site Sagas: It’s the doorknob’s fault.

For those days you’re walking out the door on the way to work or class, and you feel the tug…

It’s the doorknob’s fault.  

When you take a standardized test in elementary school and wonder why you can’t get your BG down. Then a smell fills the air, and you look down to see your pocket covered in insulin.

It’s the cat-who-likes-to-chew-on-everything’s fault.

When you jump up in excitement for who knows why, and the chair just doesn’t want to let go.

It’s the chair cushion’s fault.

When you get out of the car and sprint because of the rain then notice you are not only pump-less, but now site-less.

It’s the the seat-belt or the car door’s fault.

When you are finally doing the dishes and cooking, but the cabinet has claimed a part of you.

It’s the cabinet’s fault.

When you are having some kind of crazy dream, and wake up to the tubing wrapped around your body.

It’s dreamland’s fault.

When you are jamming on your walk to the train, to class, or to work and you want to repeat the song, and your headphones and tubing are all tangled up.

It’s the iPod’s fault.

When you are running at the speed of life, lifting weights like there is no tomorrow, or biking like the store is about to close, and the robot part of you can’t keep up.

It’s the fitness’ fault.

When clothing doesn’t have pockets or it’s not study enough for “the weight of the world”.

It’s the again-I-repeat-Where-are-my-pockets??’s fault.

When your head is no longer the perfect height, but instead the perfect height is now where the tubing is or where the site is… and you collide.

It’s the corner of the table, the wall, the furniture, or counter’s fault.

When you change clothes and forget your site is in a different location.

It’s clothing’s fault.

When it’s hot as all get out and you sweat like no other,

It’s the weather’s fault.

When you have to enter somewhere

It’s the turnstile or revolving door’s fault.

When the site kinks.

It’s the muscle, nerve, scar tissue, or whatever got in the way’s fault.

When the insulin goes bad,

It’s time and weather’s fault.

When you are clumsy, and tend to fall and trip and run into things,

It’s “that is not where that should be” or gravity’s fault.

When a kid who hasn’t been taught to not touch things that don’t belong to them reaches out and yank your site out.

It’s the kid’s fault. 

The Saga… the tragedy… of when a site is done before its time.

So, I’m not one for blame-games… Truth be told- they usually annoy me. BUT… when it comes to pump-sites… that is an entirely different story. I have no problem changing my site when it’s time. But there is something about changing your site before you are supposed to… As a kid, I fought with the higher BG’s in order to avoid changing my site even if I knew it wasn’t working well. If it rips out before its time, sometimes I switch to shots until later that day or until my “time” is up. No matter what I do, a pump-site change before its time, bothers me to no end.

Clumsy and I know it- cue an awkward dance here.


is this also where I ask for sites I don’t have to change as often can live?

I just forget.

I understand that I really have to take my ADHD medication between 5:30PM and 6:30PM.

If I take it before 5:30, there’s a little too much in my system at that time, and it wears off way before I go to bed.

If I take it after 6:30, it will keep me up after I want to go to sleep.

And more often than not, I forget until at least 7:30- even with an alarm and an event on my calendar– because I’m usually in the middle of something or I just- forget (usually I forget).


(I have an alarm for Lantus/ADHD at 8:45AM, 1PM, and 5:30PM)

And every time I’m reminded I should have taken my meds- but it isn’t as simple as “taking your meds.”

Before I started medication back in April, I thought insomnia and your mind racing and tossing and turning was just a part of my sleep routine I couldn’t escape– I have struggled with sleep since I was a child- and we have tried everything to help with my sleep patterns.

My mind likes to race- I tend to think about what happened that day or week and plan for the next day or week. I think about things I shouldn’t think about or that don’t matter- or that thing I have to do right now (but it could actually wait). And so much more- I tried to journal at night or plan the next day before bed. I tried teas. And baths and routines and books. And black out curtains. And no electronics- and so much more.

Nothing really worked well.

Then I started meds in April- and when I figured out timing and what worked for me. I found myself going to sleep shortly after my head hit the pillow- almost always. A foreign but welcomed concept to me.

So now, I can really tell the difference if I don’t take meds. Basically my evening will be completely shot productivity wise, and my to do list goes out the window- I find myself stressing out more about things- and if my blood sugar rises- all bets are off. Anxious to the max.

For instance last night, I forgot to take medication because I went shopping after work and I got consumed by taking the green line to my destination. Luckily, I was running around until almost 10PM so being productive or thinking about life and getting anxious wasn’t a part of my evening- but when I got back home- and I got into bed- I became obsessive with the bug bites that are still healing on my legs and that my skin was a little dry. I couldn’t remember if I had put anything on them- so I decided I needed to- usually I make myself just put on Neosporin all over the spots on my leg- but last night- I HAD to use a Q-tip with a certain amount of Neosporin to each and every single spot on my leg- and for people who have seen the bites- it is A LOT. That took time-then I HAD to put on lotion and I kept rubbing it in and adding more until I felt satisfied. I tried to reason with myself that I didn’t need to do that much. (I also struggle with mindlessly picking at my skin when it is healing- which I learned was part of OCD. So it takes even longer to heal- and it is too hot for jeans.) I could have been in bed at certain time, but I lost about two hours of sleep because I wouldn’t let it go. I desperately tried to reason with myself to go to bed, but I couldn’t fall asleep until I felt satisfied. 

I should have taken my meds, but it’s not that simple– and it’s not an “I don’t want to take them” or “I don’t need them”- there isn’t some hidden meaning- I just forget. I’m sure (and have heard) people say there is some hidden meaning to this- (similar to Diabetes)- but sorry folks- I just forget.

My hopes that are eventually it just clicks as a part of my routine like my morning and afternoon reminders or maybe I will learn and not want the evening impact of forgetting.