I have been quite pleased with my ability to handle the technical side of Lance’s pump.
This evening, Lance’s blood sugar levels were on the right side of perfect, and it was such a wonderful feeling that he had showered, reattached the pump, and all seemed well in our nest.
“BEEP BEEP BEEP”
“BEEP BEEP BEEP”
“DISCONNECT PUMP FROM BODY”
“CHECK BLOOD GLUCOSE”
“REDO SITE CHANGE”
“BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP”
“BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!!!!!”
Lance and I looked at each other in sheer horror. We unclipped the pump from his pyjama pants.
“Does this mean my kidneys are failing, Mum?” he asked.
I rushed to him and looked him square in the eye.
“No, not at all. Forget that thought completely. The pump isn’t happy with something that I’ve done. I will fix it though, I promise. I smiled broadly to prove to him that I was confident, when really, I was experiencing sheer panic and I felt very fearful about what was about to happen.
Firstly, a BSL check. 17.6mmol/L.
It gets better…AND a trace of ketones.
Whaaaaaaaaaaaa, it is 3 degrees outside and 11pm-way past Lance’s bedtime, but usually the time when Diabetes related disasters occur. I’ve let my guard down in the past week. I should know that nothing is ever safe or foolproof with Diabetes. Pump or no pump, there’s still a reasonable chance of a crisis, ranging from mini to super (with wings).
I grabbed my quickserter, a new set, a new reservoir, half a dozen alcohol wipes, the glucometer and a sharps kit. We marched into the spare room, armed with everything to fix this problem, and flicked the heater’s “on” button.
Lance nestled into his mini armchair. I attempted to give off the vibe that I had everything together. My brain was like jelly, I had no idea where to start, or how to shut the infernal beeping off. I could feel my heart gently start to pound. I had no time to waste. I grabbed the phone, and called the Medtronic 24 hour helpline.
(Bless you, Medtronic.)
Despite my fears, I was quite intrigued about the whole “American” experience. I pressed “2” for faults a couple of times, and was told that I would be addressed as soon as a customer service professional was available.
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.
I smiled at Lance, and made a dumb face directed at the pump. He smirked, but I could tell he was worried.
Was that a voice?
Yes!
“Hello?”
“Welcome to Medtronic, how can I help you this morning?”
(It was a male customer service provider, with a twangy, slightly sulky voice. Maybe he had an adnoidal problem..Anyway, I got an immediate image of Jon Lovitz stuck in my head, and it wouldn’t beep off!)
Jon Lovitz working for Medtronic Helpline? I am sleep deprived. Was that a sheep?
I told “Jon” all about my woes, in fact, I spoke for almost two minutes, without any response.
A few more seconds lapsed… “I can help you with this, Keete.” he replied. I could hear the faint thumbing through pages-no doubt troubleshooting solutions for people like me.
I was so relieved that he wasn’t confused or totally weirded out by what I had just told him.
Then, I had to spell EVERY word to him. My name, my address, the serial number, the quickset’s serial number…
“Keete, where is Queensland?”
“It’s in Australia.” I replied, without tweaking my voice to the sarcasm tone.
“Is it a country in Australia?” he asked. I was biting my lip, trying not to make him feel as though I was ridiculing him.
“No, it’s a state. Queensland is a state.” I stated.
“Ah, it’s a state. Okay, got it. Do you have a zip code?”
“Yeah, we do. Every town has one. We call them post codes though.”
“Postcodes?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s interesting. I’ll have to remember that.” (He was totally serious, or a VERY good actor.)
“Okay, I want you to tell me what the screen says on your son’s pump, Keete.”
I obliged. We went through a few more Q and A’s. We then got to the part where he wanted me to prime the insulin.
“You just need to let me know as soon as you see insulin, Keete, okay? Even if it’s only a drop, that’s fine, just fine.”
“Yep. I have that part covered.” I replied.
“I’m sorry? What are you covering? You should not be covering anything at this point, you should be holding the tube in your hand, and pressing ACT with the other.” He sounded very panicked.
“Ahh apologies..’I have it covered’ is a general expression which means, ‘I know how to take care of that,’ do you know what I’m saying?” I had my head in my hand at this point.
“So, nothing is covered, it was a joke, right?” he asked hesitantly.
“That’s right. I just meant that I knew about how to prime the machine and look for insulin to appear from the tubing. No actual ‘covering’ of anything to do with the pump. I’m listening to your instructions very carefully.” I hoped he understood…
“Riiigght. I see. So now that you see insulin, would you like to try inserting the reservoir into the pump?
“Sure. No problem. Done.” I replied.
“Okay, what does your screen..”
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.
He had hung up on me!!!!!!
Mid-sentence, our coversation was abruptly terminated.
A-ha! He has my phone number! He requested it at the beginning of the coversation!
I patiently waited…imagining him finding the screen on his computer with my contact details.
ALAS.
I was in shock. He was gone..
Jon Lovitz was somewhere in an office in America, answering the next caller.
Nevertheless, he had brightened my spirits, and I swiftly got to finish changing the site.
(I had to laugh when Lance asked if I was speaking to someone in another language.)
Three hours later, so far, so good. Beeping has completely stopped.
On second thoughts…
I think it’s going to be a long morning, actually. I just did a BSL test, and Lance was a devastating 4mmol/L. I have just pressed “SUSPEND”-hoping that the Novorapid will wear off soon and I can enter a lower basal rate. Looking on the bright side, at least I know I did a good, tight job with his site…
My first pump disaster turned out to be michieviously hilarious, but I STILL can’t get the image of Jon Lovitz out of my head!!!!!!!!!!!!
(Nothing against Jon, personally, but why couldn’t the Medtronic guy sound like Jake Gyllenhaal??)
2.45am. Long night approaching.
My First Year As An Official D Blogger.
19 August, 2008 · Filed under A Laugh Between BSL's., By Kate, Diabetes hope, Diabetes me, Diabetes superfriends, From Parent to Parent · Tagged Blogroll, Brendon, complications, D Blogging, Dae, Dan, friends who blog, friendships with other "D" Mum's, janek, John Howard, Kerri, Kezza, Penny, post comments, Rhonda, Shannon, World Diabetes Day
Today I took a moment to inspect my blog. It occurred to me last night that I have been doing this blogging caper for one month shy off a year!
I saw photos of Lance that actually made me gasp, as he has grown SO MUCH! His appetite has to be seen to be believed- is it any wonder I have transformed into Suzie Homemaker, preparing batches of cookies, muffins and other diabetes-friendly taste sensations. He’s morphed from a little boy into my best pal. We chit-chat and laugh all day long, and never tire of each other’s company. I’m so blessed to have him. 😀
My Best Mate-All Grown Up.
I recalled historical events like World Diabetes Day, and the ousting of our former stale and tiresome Prime Minister.
The First Recognised World Diabetes Day.
Little Johnny Howard. Bloody GST!
I read comments from all of the wonderful, supportive and unfailingly kind D Bloggers, when Lance was diagnosed with his first complications.
I also marvelled at the many new and special friendships I have made. I am so proud of the people that I call “friend” in my Blogroll, each of them are entirely different, and it’s that diversity that I dearly cherish .
Over the past year, I have reinforced my friendship with my good friend, Shannon, who is a fantastic confidante, and so unbelievably kind. Even though we have an ocean between us, we walk in very similar shoes. (Of course, I am Lance’s Mum, and Shannon is Brendon’s Mom, Brendon being Lance’s penfriend and link to what’s happening in the States.) Dan, my younger brother, has taken some collosal steps over the past year, and as a result is sitting in a very cosy nook, where the sun is always at its brightest. I am so proud of who you have become, sweetheart. Then there is Kerri, the first D Blogger I ever made contact with. She too, has had a fantastic 12 months, and a result, made a stunning bride in May.
I have also made some fascinating friendships along the way. Janek-possibly the most charismatic man I have ever known. I swear, he is the equivilent of Human Valium-his ability to transform me from inconsolable and exhausted, to tranquil and calm is a true gift. He feels more like family these days. Dae is a really funky chick who Lance has taken an extreme liking to-her posts are very inspiring and fresh, despite lugging Type 2 Diabetes alongside her. Oh my, then there is Kezza. This gorgeous creature has left me wheezing from attacks of manic laughter. He also talks my talk, and without fail, has something interesting or inspirational to say. If Lance could grow up and manage to squeeze his Diabetes into his back pocket the way Kezza can, I would be a very content mother. Other “Mom’s” like Rhonda and Penny are inspirational women, and it’s been comforting to learn about their daily struggles and successes as parents of beautiful kids with Type 1 Diabetes.
To every person who reads my posts, and has sent love, prayers, best wishes and hope for Lance, thank you, thank you, thank you. A sentence with a kind sentiment included can make such a difference on a trying day. It also means a lot to Lance that people from all over the world have him in their thoughts.
This post is dedicated to each of you. You continue to provide me with glimmers of hope, and some raucous cackles thrown in for good meaure. The worst day can be turned around by some gentle, patient words of encouragement.
On the same note, please know that I am always really eager to know how your lives are progressing, and that catching up on your posts is always a special time of my day.
Ah, you are just a bunch of shiny, happy people.
Special. Divine. Wonderful.
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