Yesterday was A DAY.
I had plenty of revision to do, but I couldn’t take my eyes away from my rising Dexcom graph. My blood was boiling. I felt anxious, and somewhat helpless. I couldn’t concentrate, despite my best intentions.
I’d only just replaced a cartridge of spoiled insulin the evening prior, after battling high blood sugars all weekend. Not to mention the insulin resistance that’s been brought on by the cooler weather. So I was still feeling more than a little paranoid, but also assumed that I was more than likely overreacting.
I gave a correction, but I still couldn’t take my eyes away from that graph. Do I set a temp basal rate? How long should I wait until correcting more? Has this insulin cartridge gone bad as well? Could that whole packet of insulin cartridges be bad? Maybe I should have waited until my insulin was at room temp before filling my cartridge last night?
Then, the rational side of my brain started waging an internal war against the irrational.
You’re being stupid. You woke up a bit higher than usual this morning, and that is what normally happens when that is the case. You’re seriously going to throw out a second cartridge of insulin!? That’s so wasteful.
Lunch panned out okay, but only thanks to the wave of active insulin and temp rates I’d used to bring down my breakfast. But after an up arrow following my afternoon coffee and cookie, I knew that my paranoia wasn’t for no good reason.
I opened a brand new box, and pulled out a fresh cartridge, hoping against all hope that this would be my third time lucky.
Things are playing out much nicer today. I’m still playing around with temp rates, but overall I feel that my body is responding properly to insulin again. I now have a box of insulin cartridges in my fridge, from which I’ve drawn two bad vials, that I’m feeling pretty dubious of. I probably won’t throw them out, but I don’t foresee that I’ll be game enough to use them again in the near future.
I hate days like these. Days that are unpredictable, days that take away my valuable time and days that have me doubting myself. I’m not used to having days like these. I like predictable. I like knowing what to expect when it comes to my diabetes.
I know that when I’m paranoid, there’s probably a damn good reason for it.