I have exciting moments in my life—fabulous vacations, lovely spring days, winning raffle tickets, the Indian and the star, a great interview coup at work, my on-hold books coming in at the public library—the usual gamut of things.
And then there are long stretches of days where nothing much of anything happens. The world continues to spin and my life makes slow circles with it.
I’m in an ordinary, mundane frame of being right now. I balanced my checkbook this morning. The gutter people are coming on Saturday to give us an estimate. I need to make a dentist and a doctor appointment. I have to order and pick up prescriptions. The dog threw up at 3am last night. I’m back on the treadmill. I have to do a load of towels tonight. Etcetera. Etcetera. Etcetera.
So imagine my surprise when my biggest thrill of the last few days came last night in the form of a needle.
I switch between using the traditional syringe/bottle Lantus injection method, and using the Lantus pen. I usually save the pens for when I travel, as it’s easier to pack and deal with once I’m there. I went out of town for a night last week, I was due for a new bottle, so I took the pen.
I like the Lantus pen and it’s easy to use. The only thing I’m not super-crazy about is the length of needle I currently have in stock for the pen—it’s short. With the shorter needle, I find the insulin tends to pool up under my skin and takes longer to absorb, thereby causing me to become the little Dutch boy and stick my finger over the hole to keep the insulin from leaking out. Such a scene can often cause unnecessary pain (granted, minor, but still an irritation nonetheless).
Last night, I only had 26 units left in my pen, and I’m currently on 46 units. So I gave myself the 26 from the pen, did the finger-on-the-hole thing, then went to grab a new bottle from the fridge and a new bag of long-needle syringes from my box-o-diabetes-stuff. I filled the syringe, which felt surprisingly light and tiny compared with the pen. I injected the remaining 20 units I needed and, because of the longer needle, the insulin stayed where it was supposed to, and with nary a blip of pain. I think I’m in love with my syringes again. It was a tiny, itty-bitty thrill in my otherwise currently ordinary life.
Who knew diabetes could offer such moments of “Wow.”
As always, more to come…