When we scheduled M's insulin pump appointment, we were informed that it was a very special appointment that could only be made on Wednesdays at 8:00 am. This means leaving the house at 6:00 am, but M thinks that it is worth it.
We receive a phone call two days before the appointment that assumes we are slightly less than "all there". We are told to bring a list of items that a diabetic would typically find elementary. While I understand that the nurses at the hospital often have to deal with inept people, I find the list mildly insulting.
Bring:
1) insulin (mentioned twice)
2) the pump (!)
3) an infusion set
4) a reservoir
5) the bg meter
6) a bottle of chardonnay (I am just kidding about that one)
The night before the appointment, we gather all of the needed supplies into a JDRF backpack, and go to bed a little early.
The drive to Children's was trafficky and long, due to a lot of rain, but we arrived safely and on time.
The visit itself was a piece of cake. The DNE reviewed everything that the pump rep had told us last week. May played with more screens, and created her settings for trial and error with the pump.
One interesting fact. She had taken her Lantus the night before. Being that it is a long-lasting insulin, it was still in her system. So how do we make sure that she doesn't get a double dose of insulin? After all, the pump is supposed to feed M a basal rate of 1.35 units per hour. Wouldn't that make her dangerously low?
We learn to set the pump for a temporary basal rate of 0 units per hour for the next 12 hours. Then we start her on her new basal rate tonight.
Sleepless nights are coming again. M has to check her bg at midnight and 3:00 am. Which means I have to get up and check M's bg at midnight and 3:00 am. She will also need to check it before eating, and two hours after eating for the next week or two. Lots of finger sticking, but all for a good cause.
M felt good leaving the office. We began the long, rainy drive back home. Then M got hungry. We stopped at the healthiest place nearby: a Hess station. I got gas for the car, and raided their ice cream selection. I needed something relatively soft. Not only does M have diabetes, but she also has braces. Which were adjusted yesterday. So her mouth hurt.
Ice cream sandwich: 43 carbs. No. Ben and Jerry's single serve: 29 carbs. Much better.
M smiles as she receives her tiny little gift, with a tiny little spoon in the lid.
Then it hits me. She only has to enter the number 29 into her pump, and BOOM, it's all calculated and dosed. Her first pump-injected insulin is coursing through her system.
This might make life a little easier after all.
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