Remember all those things I had to do? And all those things I had NOT to do?
Well, of all of them, the hardest one so far is:
- Do a blood test every morning
Not only because I have to psych myself into it – the “lancing device” (which I prefer to call the Instrument Of Torture) means it’s not quite as bad as sticking pins into myself, but it’s close. No, also because I DO NOT BLEED.
Please do not take that as an invitation to put it to the test. I am confident that it would be possible to MAKE me bleed, given the appropriate motivation. But in the morning, even after I wash my hands in warm water to stimulate the blood flow – heck, even after I SOAK my hands in warm water to stimulate the blood flow – I have great difficulty getting a drop of blood big enough for testing.
Here’s what happens:
- Get out new test strip, half insert into monitor, feel virtuous.
- Breathe deeply and stare at Instrument Of Torture
- Summon courage, arm and release IOT
- Squeeze finger. Is that blood? Maybe – oo, there’s some.
- Massage finger in direction of fingertip. Think yeah, that should be enough.
- Push test strip into machine, wait for it to beep
- Position test strip to suck up blood. Waitt for it to beep. Realise it’s not going to beep, and curse.
- Prick another finger. And another. Repeat steps 3 through 7 until machine switches itself off.
- Try switching machine back on and sucking up some more blood. Nuh-uh. Get error message.
I turned the needle one notch higher today, which might help. Also stopped using it RIGHT NEXT TO my eee as there is something about electromagnetic interference.
Meanwhile I have used about a billion test strips today. To the extent that I have to go see my Dr tomorrow to get a prescription for more of them. And they didn’t want to give me an appointment but I must have sounded so pathetic on the phone that they gave me one.
Glucose levels in the morning are still normal but I do see them dropping. Got a slight scare this morning when I got a reading of 3.3 (they should be 5+; any less than 3 is a trigger to urgently call my specialist on her mobile). Then I rechecked (the ultimate indignity, when I had FINALLY got a reading) and got 4.9 so I guess my right hand has lower glucose readings than my left. Or I contaminated the sample somehow. OMGISUCK!!!
And then I have to go bitch about this stuff in my blog. When I would rather be writing about Good Stuff like How The Neighbours Complained. Or All The Games I Am Playing (sadly, I am not. But I did teach Mr Jack to Fraser on Wednesday night.)