I've had one of those days-or weeks- that makes having diabetes seem like the biggest pain in the ass. I pretty much haven't been able to buy a break. In general, actually, it's been a week where you go "is life really suppose to be like this?"
Saturday began with me going out with friends and managing to drop kick my Deltec Cozmo across the street while running to catch the Metro. I picked up my life-line from the middle of the street, checked to make sure I wasn't oozing internal organs from my sticky site, and managed to insert a new one on the Metro (going backward no less!) The cap on the pump has a pretty nice gash, but nothing to warrant any return trip (seeing as my new one should be shipped any day now)
Monday morning I was on the Metro on my way to work, when a woman in a motorized wheelchair entered the train. Her bag on the back of the chair got caught and another gentleman and myself pulled it loose as the annoying voice of Metro screamed "DOORS CLOSING!" The woman continued to block the entrance of the busy train and as I went to get off, she decided to get out of the way too, wheeling herself right over my left flip-flop clad foot. My toes screamed and I couldn't help but give her the nastiest look I could muster, in between my tears. The throbbing continued for the morning and my toes are a slight green, but nothing broke and it seemed like one of those good Samaritan stories gone terribly wrong. You help someone, they run over your foot.
And then yesterday I spent 2 hours on the Metro going 2 stops. Yes, my train was behind a disabled one and I spent 40 minutes underneath the Potomac River only to be deboarded at the next station. At that point, roughly an hour an a half into my trip, Fiance was called and dinner was had in Arlington. Sometimes, DC just sucks.
Yesterday also led me on the pursuit to get an initial appointment with my PCP at my brand new HMO. I tried to schedule online and they told me I was shit out of luck. Beads of sweat on my brow, I'm surveying test strips and insulin like I'm about to head to a bomb shelter for a year. I think I can maybe make it until September? Today, I called for good measure and my PCP has TONS of openings. I got to pick a time on Friday. I can tell already that this is going to be an adventure. Also, since I'm new to paying for diabetes stuff, can anyone give me a rough estimate of out of pocket expenses for a month? I had military insurance before and well, I was spoiled rotten. A ballpark would be great so I don't keel over and force Fiance to sell his organs for supplies.
Alas, I make it to Friday and a hot one at that, and go to Happy Hour with my coworkers since this week, well, sucked. No beers or anything but a Diet Coke and good conversation and then BAM- pump decides to DIE! On my walk to Georgetown to meet Fiance and friends, I get error messages, key stuck messages, and overall bad times. I get the pump running enough to test, but of course, not to bolus as I dig into my potato skins and other delicious bar food. 30 more minutes of pump being a pain in the ass and I'm on the phone with Deltec asking "What the heck is going on?" At this point, buttons aren't working and I'm pissed off. They tell me they're sending a new pump, but not until Monday and I'm scrambling to figure what I'm going to do about shots since I'm endo-less and can't seem to remember what types of insulin I have at home in the fridge. Then, by the grace of God, and maybe Computer Hacker Savvy Fiance, the pump is magically working, but not until we're safely on our way back to our apartment in the burbs away from the fun-ness that is Georgetown on Friday night.
I'm home now and the pump is...pumping. I had the "you don't understand what it's like" discussion again with Tipsy Fiance which ended with both of us in bad moods and him in bed and me running things over in my head like "what if I didn't have diabetes?" or "why does this frustrate me and why do I let it since I know this is my life?"
This has been one for the record books, ladies and gents.