For shame, Mr. Insulin Pump, for shame

I have a fairly high tolerance for pain – I take needles regularly, I prick my finger multiple times a day, when I broke my wrist, I was in denial, and lasted three days before going to the ER, I frequently encourage my physio and massage therapist to press harder, harder, harder into inflamed areas. But yesterday morning, when I woke up, the pain was so intolerable, I could barely stand, let alone sit!

The culprit: Mr. Insulin Pump.

I wasn’t gonna say anything, I’m a little embarrassed to be honest, feeling crazy violated, but in the name of fellow T-1s safety, I must come forward.

My pump, ahem, took advantage of me overnight. He bloody well got frisky with me; took up shop right at the tender part of my tushy! There was no permission to be had, no pre-arranged agreement, no bloody enjoyment. But rather, a bruised tailbone the morning after!!! Majorly bruised! I couldn’t sit without pain, I couldn’t bend down more than a quarter of the way without pain.

For shame, Mr. Insulin Pump, for shame!

I’ve got my EYE on you sir!

Fellow insulin pump users, heed this warning. Safeguard yourself against that pump of yours, because while they may look all innocent, and act like the bestest pal you’ve ever known, one day – one day!  – that sucker could very well turn on you and accost you in the night. (I’m pretty sure mine went evil when he got wind of a rumour he’s to be replaced in the near future with a much more fancier model.)

I most definitely needed an icy cold run to wash away the pump’s nasties – butt pain and all!


  • 8:15 a.m. BG before: 10.1
  • Carbs: none (gave -40% less bolus at breakfast an hour prior)
  • Temp. basal: none
  • Distance: 5.05 km
  • Time: 27:10
  • Average pace: 5:23 min/km
  • Average cadence: 89 spm
  • 9:15 a.m. BG after: 8.1

View along the route.

5 thoughts on “For shame, Mr. Insulin Pump, for shame”

Leave a Reply