After a lovely girls night out with my friends (who I refer to as ABC), I stumbled into the apartment, exhausted and blurry eyed, at 1AM. We hadn't even been drinking! I walked into the bathroom and step on something wet and squishy. I immediately panicked. With two cats in the house, you just never know.
Someone had thought it was a good idea to dunk this toy in the toilet and leave it on the floor for an unsuspecting human. But we're not naming names.
I digress.
Realizing that an alarm had gone off on my pump, alerting me to a low reservoir of insulin, I knew I couldn't wait until the next morning to refill. Feeling my way like Helen Keller through my bedroom, trying not to disturb a sleeping Jerry, I grabbed all of the tools for changing my infusion site and insulin reservior. One these tools being an obvious one of insulin. Duh, right?
When I was first diagnosed with diabetes, I read many diabetes blogs, talking about the trials and tribulations of being diabetic, taking insulin, living life, etc. One thing many of these bloggers discussed was the annoyance of dropping and shattering an insulin vial. How annoying. How expensive. How smelly. Insulin has very distinct smell.
In my arrogant little mind, I thought, "How irresponsible! I would never shatter any of my insulin vials."
Guess what I was cleaning up off the kitchen floor, trying to stop the cats from rolling in, at 1:15 AM?
Call me irresponsible.
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