Wednesday, 14 July 2010

How the iPhone almost killed me.

OK, OK, I may be exaggerating just a touch, but in a round about 'what if' way it did.

I have been eagerly awaiting the arrival of my shiny new iPhone for days. As of yet, I haven't really bought into the whole iPhone crowd thing, primarily because I don't feel the need to belong to the messy-haired, NME reading, skinny jean-wearing, must-have-an-iPhone-or-you're-not-'cool' crowd. But I do have a confession; I can't help it, but I do love the feeling of slicing the sellotape away from a shiny new box containing a new phone. One which I invariably won't be able to use without being all fingers and thumbs for days (why does every mobile phone have a different space bar or punctuation button?), one which I will probably drop in a puddle days after saying I would be more careful with this one, and one which I will no doubt have to spend hours transferring numbers to, because as much as I love technology, it always gets the better of me. But, just as you get a new pair of shoes and can't stop looking at them, or get a new car and can't stop finding reasons to drive to the shop (it's five minutes away but it's dark outside - it's the safer thing to do, right?), I just have a thing about new phones.

Today at work, my insulin pump was running low on insulin (the clue is in the name - it's kind of the key feature!). I had done the rough calculations in my head to make sure I had enough to get me through the day: In other words, 1.5 units per hour x eight hours = 12 units, plus the six units I use for lunch = 18. I had 19 units left so thought I would be safe. One problem, being the human (and occasional scatter-brain) that I am, I had forgotten to calculate my morning dose for my breakfast (4.5 units). That means I was now 3 hours short of insulin. Hmmm, I know that I can take an hour off the pump safely, so I can get through until 4.30pm without worrying too much. I agreed with the wife (he's a good wife) that we would leave work at 4pm today (thank the Lord for flexi time!) so that I could top up the reservoir in the pump and harmony would be restored.

Turns out, I am more excited about getting my new iPhone than I am in making sure I have enough insulin. You know, the 'stuff' which keeps me alive and stops me going into a coma (!). I got home with all the best intentions. But not intentions of filling my pump, Nooooooo. Instead, I had intentions of getting acquainted with my lovely shiny new friend - the stuff of dreams - my iPhone.

Unfortunately the phone of dreams hadn't arrived. I have no doubt that any normal non-obsessed person would probably have given up there, but I am no mere normal person. I, managed to spend about 2 hours staring at the tracker screen on the DHL website (useless, by the way) watching it say "out for delivery". After having some dinner and trying to accept (and failing at it) that my shiny new companion wasn't arriving today, I went to meet my friend for a drink. We strolled along Langstone harbour for about 45 minutes, chatting about anything and everything under the sun, enjoying the summer evening (aren't they bliss?).

We strolled back and sat down for a drink. After about another half an hour, my pump made the most disturbing sound.


"What the hell?!"

"SHIT!" (excuse la French).

"I haven't filled the reservoir! I have to go."

It was 9.30 pm at this point. I was currently in my sixth hour of no insulin, having eaten 85 grams of carbohydrate for dinner and injected for it (or so I thought).

I raced home with Lauren in the car behind - following me to make sure I was OK (she's a good lass). I raced in doors, grabbed my testing kit (weirdly enough I never leave home without the damn thing - except for today when I forgot it) and tested my levels.


I don't know how, but after 6 hours of no insulin and having eaten a dinner which should have warranted 8.5 units of insulin (which I never received), I managed to be at a reasonably good level!

I have set the pump to release 150% the amount of insulin I normally need and have tested three times since getting home, but nevertheless have some how managed to avoid a potential nightmare! In fact, I may need to eat something before bed because my levels are dropping!

For all you diabetics out there I have one message:


I still can't wait to open that box though. Fingers and thumbs at the ready!

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