No matter how old you are, you can still get assigned homework. More proof that life is not fair.
Next week I will meet with the bionics training person, so I must get up to speed and do the reading and studying I need to do before then.
The company that makes the pancreas has trainers in Stockton, Sacramento, and San Francisco. All of them are hundreds of miles from the little mountain town of Arnold. My doctor suggested that she schedule an appointment with a trainer she works with, named Maureen.
What are the odds that it is the same Maureen who trained me on my former insulin pump 12 years ago? It turns out that she is that very Maureen! And she now has a good reason to visit Arnold and train me at home. I gave this circumstance the major “happy dance” it deserved. It was the first time since receiving the supplies that I felt good about this thing. Also, knowing I did not have to drive for miles helped me de-stress a lot.
Today I am organizing things and cleaning up the aftermath of quilt show things. Then, I will take the rest of the week to do my bionic homework. To be honest, I’m afraid to do it. I’m afraid to find out that I’m probably going to hate dealing with this new pancreas. The few things I’ve read on the internet are scary.
I promised myself that I would give it a fair chance. I may love being bionic. It could happen.
TTFN
I Feel a New Series Coming On…
Just when my life is getting back to normal, well, normal-er, I am thrown into a new adventure. What helps me deal with changes is to talk (vent?) about them.
You, dear readers, get to come along for the ride. Although this adventure is not traveling to foreign lands, I think you will find it interesting and educational. I know I will.
When Medicare stopped covering my insulin pump, I reverted back to the Stone Age and injected insulin myself. My doctor had to retrain me about the diabetes math (calculations made to determine dosage). My pump did the math for me, among other things.
I did not get a new pump because my former one did everything via Bluetooth, and I did not have to have infusion sets and tubing to bother with. I was spoiled. Fast forward 2 years of unstable blood glucose, and I have chronic kidney disease to show for it. My doctor said I had to go on a pump system again before more complications emerged. I am not happy about this development.
I have enough to do without training to use inconvenient new equipment. [grumble, grouse, and grumble again]
This is the difference between the two technologies:
In my view, Medicare should pay for the simpler solution. That is already working for the patient. However, in the world of medicine, the patient is rarely right, or even considered. But I am veering off topic.
This blog is not to rant to you about Medicare! It is about me sharing my journey with y’all in an effort to get over my depression and look at things from your perspective. What I think is your perspective. I am assuming you are not a Type I diabetic. If you are, you may want to follow along anyway.
This adventure began a couple of weeks ago, when two large boxes arrived on my doorstep. I had to sign for them. They were shipped out by a company called “Reliable”.
The shipping documents showed they were supplies from Beta Bionics. This week, a little black box arrived, only labeled in white letters: ‘iLet Bionic Pancreas.’
It sure did not look impressive. The box was smaller than a bread box.
That’s all I have for now. I have to arrange training on the device and schedule it for November.
TTFN
Get Your Grump On
Some days, no matter what you do, are frustrating, maddening, and emotional.
Everything in your life is falling apart, and you just can’t take it anymore. You want to hide in your room and not deal with anything. You want to give up the fight. You keep running into that brick wall, and the only dents you make are on yourself.
You are told, “Snap out of it!” “Go back to bed and get up on the right side.” “Suck it up.” “Get over yourself.” Oh, and my personal favorite (not), “Call a Whaaambulance.”
Obviously, ranting to others does nothing to help you. I used to think that “getting it off your chest” helped you mentally. It does. But only if you rant to yourself. YOU are the only one you can trust to know exactly what you mean, not be judgmental, or get offended. I keep two journals. One is my everyday diary and prayer book. The other one? That is my black book of rants, resentments, and evil thoughts.
What!?! You have evil thoughts?
Oh, you bet I do.
I came across my black book two days ago while cleaning out my dresser. I decided not to read any of it at the time. Very few people know about the black book, and none have ever seen or heard its contents. In fact, I try not to read past entries myself. Why go through it again? I need to expel the current demons and return the black book to its shelf when I finish, so it can be taken from its place when needed. Usually, months go by without even thinking about the black book. In very bad times, the book is not reshelved for days.
I have not written anything new for years. Not that my life is perfect. I keep the book because knowing it’s there, ready to listen, helps me cope. I have hundreds of journals, diaries, and prayer books. I do not have any other black books. One seems to be enough. If you struggle with resentments or can’t let go of bad feelings, you should try this method. For me, it allows me to think/say exactly how I feel about whatever or whoever. I can be as vicious and nasty as I need to be with my black book. If I were venting to a friend, I could not be as free to let it all out. I would edit myself. Pull punches, hold back.
Today, after attending my quilt guild’s meeting, I realized that I need to check out that little black book. The deadline for show entries is next week, and I am already being bombarded with special requests. I love my fellow quilters. So I want to be diplomatic when I tell them that they are not special enough to change the rules for. The only way I can be kind and patient is to yell at them in the book and get it out of my system. Page after page of rants and evil thoughts will be written. That, and the subconscious growling.
TTFN
