My Purse

I have a pretty big purse. And it's pretty packed with stuff. All of it stuff that makes sense, at least in my head, to have on hand.

I have hand cream (two hand creams actually but one is almost finished so I'll be down to one again soon) and a handful of lip balms (I like variety). A collapsible shopping bag (ok, two collapsible shopping bags). Sunglasses and, in the off chance I actually need them in the middle of winter, my contact lenses. I have a ziplock bag full of fruit chews, Dex 4s and other emergency carbs. I have my fountain pen(s), my rollerball pen and my clickie pencil. Ink refills for my pen because I write a lot. A hairbrush and a pick (not sure why I need both but they're in there). A CPR pocket mask. My glucometer. Batteries for my pump and my glucometer. Face cream (just a small one). A mirror (just a small one). Hair elastics. Hair clips. A mangled Larabar. My emergency glucagon. My wallet. My change purse that I no longer use since I got my new wallet but it's still floating around at the bottom of my bag anyway. A nail file (ok two nail files). My green moleskin notepad.

What I do not carry on a normal day is a new infusion site for my pump. I also don't normally carry a back-up needle with insulin.

Why?

Because I already carry a ton of stuff.

Because I work two minutes from home and, on most days, can easily leave the office to pick up what I need should I need it.

Because my purse is already packed with stuff, most of which I actually want to carry. I don't want to take any of that stuff out to carry more things that I really don't want to carry.

Because I rarely run into problems that I can't easily fix.

Because.

Because.

Because.

Anyone want to guess what happened?

Yep. I needed some stuff that I didn't have and was nowhere near my home at the time.

It all started on Sunday morning. I woke up to a beautiful flatline on Dexter. I had slept well all night and spent over 8 hours with a blood sugar between 5 and 6. I love waking up to flatlines.

I showered and went downstairs for breakfast. My regular breakfast. Which I bolused my regular insulin for. I ate it, said bye to Doug and hopped in the car to drive to Toronto for a sister-visit.

By the time I hit Burlington, Dex was singing the high notes. I was surprised to see that I was 17 and climbing. I doubled checked on my glucometer and it said I wasn't 17, I was 18. It made no sense. The only thing I could think of was that I hadn't exercised that morning and my sugar was higher than it should have been. I bolused. Dexter sang. I bolused again. He kept singing.

By lunchtime, I had managed to get my sugar down to 11. Still crazy high but at least I was dropping.

We ate. I bolused 20 minutes before we ate and took twice the dose I should have. Within 30 minutes of eating, I was 17 again. We walked around Toronto a bit more but then I said I had to head home. Something was wrong.

I got in the car and I was 18 and climbing. I dialled in a 5-unit megadose and hit 'go'. I immediately felt wetness on my skin and smelled insulin. Fabulous. My site was compromised, I was 75 minutes from home and I had no other insulin-injecting device available. It explained the problem but I had no solution.

There was nothing I could do but drive. Every 15 minutes I checked Dexter and every 15 minutes he confirmed that I was 17.5 and holding steady. Not the kind of flatline I wanted to see.

By the time I got home I was exhausted, dehydrated, headachy and starving. I changed my pump site and took a megadose of insulin. We waited 40 minutes until I dropped back down below 11 before we ate our 100% carb-free dinner.

I should have carried a site change in my purse. I should have had a backup system. I should have at least had something in the car in case I needed it.

I know.

I know.

I know.

I just don't really want to feel any more like a traveling hospital than I already do. I just wanted to spent the day in Toronto with my sisters, pretending we were famous. Walking into stores and looking at the beautiful vintage clothes we can't afford to buy. I just wanted to giggle and tell stories and be the big sister.

Not the sick sister.