Parting Is Such Sweet...
This was the start of my Pump Hiatus, which began about midnight Friday/Saturday. The first two mornings seemed surreal as I grappled with the reality that my Bionic Limb wasn’t attached, but set aside for that nostalgic routine of injections. Hello, MDI. Hello, again.
Parting is such sweet sorrow... but sometimes it’s necessary. Just as Juliet said it to dearest Romeo, so I say it to an insulin pumping lifestyle that I've enjoyed since the summer of 2001, my final year of college. We are sad to part ways temporarily, but it's sweet as I will be healed when the two of us finally reunite.
Don't get me wrong. I love what pumping has done for me through the years. The daily flexibility and ability to achieve tighter control is amazing and irreplaceable. Not to even mention the CGM choices we now have, which allow us to have a more constant tracking of where we're at in D-Management. It got me down to a 6.1 A1c at one point, and that's proof that it can be done.
But all of that means constantly being connected to a device. Suzi calls me the Bionic Man, and the pump is a Bionic Limb. It's always there, minus the short and periodic disconnections for showers and other personal moments. When sleeping, you must sometimes adjust to where it's placed on the body. It can be knocked off your body if you aren't careful. Sometimes, the sites just don't work or the infusion sets malfunction. Kinks. Blockage. Sets coming loose or getting knocked off. It can be frustrating, aside from just having to find a new spot of Real Estate for the site to go in the first place. There can be gushers, and it seems in my case they always spring up when I'm wearing a white dress shirt.
It’s become a routine struggle, an emotional trigger point that leads to my breaking down out of sheer frustration that my body just doesn't support my pump usage.
For those reasons, I've reflected more fondly on the days before "bolus" and "basal" become a part of the daily vocabulary. When you took a shot in the morning and went about your day. Sure, the control and flexibility wasn't there, but you didn't have to lug the pump and set with you all the time. There were no bionic limbs. In a way, I’ve missed that "freedom." Those were the days since March 1984 and that final year of college.
Showering without any connection. Being able to sleep on any side, in any position. Wrestling and playing with the dog without having to worry about tube tangling or sets being knocked off. I’m sure the workweek will bring similar joys, like not having a device attached to my belt or having to worry about tube tugs whenever the shirt is tucked or untucked. Of course, there's challenges: relearning the differences and how my body reacts to different foods with injections, not an hourly basal. Carrying needles with me and making sure the Humalog is full. Having to take more shots when more food is added. Of course, remembering I'm not connected or restrained by tubing.
Good times. So, the Journey begins...