I walked out the front door this morning and stopped. I felt naked. A quick glance southwards assured me I wasn’t. (Result!) But I couldn’t shake the feeling. So I put down my bag and did the pat-down. The pat-down starts at my hips (nothing found), goes to my lower back (nothing found) and then across the middle of my chest (nothing found). That’s a problem – no pump! I opened the front door, ran down the corridor, turned off the alarm, and headed into the bathroom where my pump was sitting quietly on the bathroom counter having not been reattached after my shower.
Hooked up again, I turned on the alarm, walked down the corridor, locked the front door and started to walk to my car. And stopped. I still felt naked. Pump attached, CGM all secured. What else? I opened my bag and rummaged through the mess pulling out my phone, my iPad, my wallet, business card holder, pens, mints, loose pieces of paper, loose change, a toy unicorn (no idea, really, but it pleased me greatly!), a notebook and several small packets of jelly beans. Looking….looking……looking. And there it was, at the bottom of my bag, my meter case.
I walked to the car, but couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right and that I’d forgotten something. What could it be?
I grabbed my meter case out of my bag and peeked inside. All good – meter, lancet and strips. OK. Surely I was good to go now. Key in the ignition, car started. And I stopped. Where was my ‘spares’ bag? (That’s my little bag that holds a spare pump line, cannula and syringe as well as a vial of insulin for those days I ignore the ‘Low Reservoir’ warnings on my pump.) More rummaging through my (totally GIANT, Mary Poppins-esque) bag until I located it.
Satisfied that I had all my dia-gear, I started the car and headed to work, ignoring the unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach that I’d forgotten something.
This is the thing with diabetes. There is so much stuff. Why, oh why hasn’t someone tried to tie all this together? I’m more than a little excited at the new (not yet available in Australia) meter that attaches itself to a fruit phone. For years I’ve been dreaming of a phone/meter combination. And if someone could work out a way to tie a few other things together, I’d be thrilled!
So, now it’s 2.13 and I’m just back from lunch. And I just opened my bag looking for lipstick to apply. I turned my bag upside down looking for my bright red lippy, cursing MAC for packaging their products in boring, sleek black. No luck! That’s what has been missing all day. Not diabetes stuff (although, the pump wasn’t connected this morning, so there’s that), it’s the lippy. I’ve said it before; I’ll say it again. Sometimes it’s not diabetes.