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 […]
For shame, Mr. Insulin Pump, for shame Read More »