A Month Unconnected

At the end of March, I started a Pump Hiatus that was my first break from insulin pumping since I'd began it nine years earlier. This was a chance to help my war-torn body and infusion sites heal some. This in no way signalled any unhappiness with the concept of pumping, which was a life-changing experience in June 2001 and has allowed flexibility and better health in the near-decade since then.

Now, it's the end of April. I've been doing at least two shots a day in that time, sometimes as many as six depending on how many times I eat or correct in a day. I've written some in the first month, such as a post about my Raspberry Jammed Diabetes trending without a pump.

Overall, my verdict after a month: I miss my pump and all the benefits brought into my world. Life just hasn't been the same. My definition of "normal" has changed, and it's not a change I'm too enthused about on reflection.

The Minimed 722 (who we'll fondly refer to by the proper name of Bacon Gibbs!) has remained on the dividing wall near the stairs in my upstairs gameroom, sitting by itself and looking sad. There's a gleam of hope each time I approach, offering the possibility that the time has finally come to end that loneliness and reconnect. But alas, instead my hands grab a nearby syringe for my Humalog or even a Lantus Pen needle tip for that twice-a-day injection. Bacon Gibbs' goes glum, again, and sits in a funk until the next ray of sunshine comes near.

On a positive note, it has been nice not being continuously connected to a device. No infusion site to navigate around in sleeping, showering, getting dressed, or other moments where care is necessary. That frustration of having to switch and find new real estate has evaporated.

But the negatives so far have outweighed those gains, in my honest opinion.

Sure, you can live successfully and adapt quite nicely to Multiple Daily Injections (MDI). I was on injections for the first 17 years of my D-Life, and though I deviated from good control frequently, it wasn't because of impossibility - rather it was a question of motivation on my part. At times, my control was fine and proved that injections were

As my Endo, Dr. P, says: it's not about the pump most of the time. It's about the person. They have to want tight control.

I certainly want tight control, but decided after some boiling point moments earlier this year, that it was time to give the pump a rest temporarily.

Easier said than done, right.

After nine straight years of pumping, it's been tough to adjust to. My BG sugars are all over the place and I fear my already too-high A1C may be jumping even higher. The differences in how the insulin works in my system and food reaction times are all throwing monkey wrenches into my clogged system, and it's not making this control game any easier. Plus, it's always nice to have a record of carbs, corrections, BGs, and basals at your fingertips - something that's been an adjustment in having to more meticulously track these events in my memory banks.

One thing that this hiatus has truly taught me: it's how wonderful pumping really is, and how much you really do have to appreciate it. By knowing what you're missing, it's easier to hold an appreciation for a device that you can sometimes take for granted. This wasn't always the way, and technology can break - but when it works as a tool in your health management, what a wonderous experience it can provide. I'm thankful for that.

So, the time has come to think about reconnecting. Four Lantus Pens remain in my butter compartment. That means I'll likely get through May on the MDI and plan for June to get back into the pumping routine. By the time the summer routine gets underway, complete with a brief Orlando trip and weekling camping trip to Michigan, I'll be ready to once again be a Pumper.

Here's to June, when my D-Life goes back to "normal."