Animas

I’m rubber, you’re glue…

The other day I gave you something that I love, and so today, I give you something of the opposite: my new Animas sleeves. Lunch bag letdown 🙁 Before I start, though, let me first preface this dislike by stating that my contact at Animas is so totally super awesome and pretty much bends over backwards for me when I have concerns about the product, which is how I ended up with the sleeves for my pump and metre in the first place. I emailed her last month to complain about the grubby state of my pump. It’s protective screen had started peeling up at the edges (likely from all the banging into walls I do) and had grime and crusty sweat and dirt and dust building up underneath, which was majorly grossing me out. However, when I got the replacement pump several months ago, there was a note attached …

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Love at first pump

Have you ever come across something and instantly knew you just had to have it? I have, many times. For example, the stand-up microphone in the Sears catalogue, I had to have. And year after year I repeatedly asked Santa, my parents, the stranger on the street corner for it, but was sadly denied every year. Apparently they didn’t want to hear my singing in stereo sound; they don’t know what they were missing 😉 But I tell you, the new Tandem t:slim insulin pump, I will not be denied. While this pump is not yet approved in Canada, and has only just begun its unveiling in the United States, to be released there shortly, come hell or high water, that sucker will be clasped on my belt by the time my medical coverage allows me a new pump. I promise you that. What makes this pump so special? Look …

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What NOT to do

First the pool, now cement. Oh man, my insulin pumping system hates me! A few months ago I discovered my insulin pump wasn’t actually waterproof (as was advertised by Animas) after submerging it into a pool for an hour. On Sunday, I discovered my blood glucose monitor, which connects to the pump, isn’t made of titanium, nor does it have an invisible protective shield around it. Seriously, some one should get on that. Mario and I had just finished dinner out on the patio and after lingering in the dwindling sun for a awhile, we begrudgingly started to pack up. Mario grabbed his dinner plate and I think maybe a side plate, but me being the efficient packer upper that I am (or just lazy) I stacked three plates for one hand, two glasses in the other hand, with cutlery inside the glasses, and then I grabbed my glucometre and …

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Types 1, they know

The last week has been pretty rough. I’ve been really struggling with my blood sugars, and as I’m sure most of you are aware by now, I’m somewhat OCD when it comes to my BG averages; I like perfection. And for the most part, I’m pretty close to it, but every now again, my BG likes to rebel, take me on a roller coaster ride of extreme highs and serious lows for seemingly no reason whatsoever. Nothing has changed. I’m eating the same foods. My infusions appear to be okay. I don’t have a virus that I know of. But for some jerk-like reason my BG has decided to flip the middle finger up at me. Previous times, I’ve suffered through it alone. Sure I had Mario and my family to rant about it to, and I had the specialists and the diabetic nurses and the pump manufacturers to send …

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Princess and D-gal: The power of two bloggers

For years I wanted nothing to do with this disease. Nothing. I was comfortable taking a backseat to my diabetes, ignoring it, denying it, full-on rebelling against it. I didn’t care to talk to anyone about it, and I sure as heck didn’t want anybody talking to me about it. And when it came to other diabetics, I wanted nothing to do with them. But my oh my how things do change. Earlier this week, when still in the Onterrible, I had an opportunity to meet with Scully, fellow blogger, long-distance runner, and type 1 diabetic. I was a little nervous going in. I’ve been reading her blog for a good while now and while I love her online personality, I had no idea what I’d be getting in the flesh. Over the years I’ve met a few diabetics who, truthfully, I couldn’t stand. For me, there’s nothing worse than …

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