This morning I was laying in bed and had a random-half-awake-dream-thought.
"What will I do if our glucometer breaks?! Surely we brought an extra with us when we moved"
Then I thought, "nah... not going to worry about that" and all too quickly, I was back to sleep.
(We have a great meter. It's the Animas One Touch Ping. The meter checks her blood sugar and communicates with her pump to give her insulin. It does calculations, it gives delayed doses if I tell it to, and it basically saves me from having to do any major math equations.)
7:30am Blood Sugar Check.....
I put in a strip. Nothing. New strip. Nothing. Try turning on the meter. Nothing!
I looked at Bug and said, "hmmm. Your meter isn't working."
To which she replied, "WHAT?! BUT MOM! I HAVE DIABETES!!!!!"
I had to laugh, which made her laugh. I told her she could go ahead and eat breakfast and I would figure something out.
I can not believe I wasn't spastic or panicky as I walked to the hall bathroom closet where our diabetes supplies are so neatly stacked and organized in color coded drawers. I didn't know if we had an extra. But, if we did have one, I knew where it would be.
There it was. Bottom blue drawer with the cotton balls and owners manuals: one extra meter. Not our brand with the fancy remote that talks to her pump, but it would check her blood sugar..... a slightly major part of my day every 3 hours.
When we were in the hospital they handed out meters like perfume samples at Macy's, and we kept them; ALL. When we lived in our old house they were all kept together in the same bag "for an emergency". Then when we moved, I gave one to each grandmother to keep at their houses "for an emergency", and then I put the rest in our storage unit for the year. All but one apparently.
Don't you love it when you are accidentally smart; almost like it was a subconscious move. I made a million lists (that I still have, by the way, for reference for the next move in 6 months), and nowhere on any list does it say "extra glucometer".
Thankfully, I had her blood sugar checked by 7:40 and was on the phone with Animas Support at 7:56am. By 8:25am Lisa had a new meter on it's way to arrive by Wednesday at lunch time. Although the "pushy desperate mother of a child with a chronic illness who depends on modern technology to survive on an hourly basis" came out a tiny bit during our conversation. *keep in mind I had not had my morning tea yet*
Lisa: OK, well, since you said you have an extra, we'll get a new one sent out in about 4-5 business days. OK?
Me: No! No, Lisa. That's not OK. It's not a One Touch PING! It makes me incredibly nervous (now) to have one meter in the house AND we are leaving town in two days AND it shouldn't have broken in the first place! I know it's not your fault, but I HAVE to have that meter by tomorrow if not sooner!
Lisa: *much more controlled than I* OK, Let me check on that........ pause....... It will be there tomorrow by lunch.
I basically fell all over myself and told her that she made my day and was amazing and very helpful and so on and so on. Hopefully that was a recorded conversation so Lisa's co-workers can learn how to deal with a crazy mother at 8 o'clock in the morning without calling her names or hanging up. I probably got some sort of star next to my name in the file *not flexible, panicky about supply shortage*
I know I'm not alone. Most mothers of kids with Type 1 find peace when looking at a stocked supply drawer/closet. Then the mother bear instinct is awakened when the survival supply is threatened.
The take home point: My daughter wears her robot-like pancreas in a little pocket stitched to a strap that goes around her tummy. We literally plug her in after baths and swimming. We depend on technology and fancy gadgets; and today one of them just gave up!
Another slap in the face moment: I love all our gadgets but I hate depending on them. We have GOT to find a cure for this dumb thing.
This little girl and her mommy agree with me! She's about Bug's age and her video made us both so happy.... always nice to know you aren't the only spunky little girl with a stinky condition.
