For the first time in my 6 years living with diabetes I want to take my insulin pump off. While, it may not seem like a big deal to some, it is to me. I’ve reached a new point in my diabetes life and am experiencing another diabetes first.
I long to roll around on my sides and not get tangled in tubing or have to move the pump. I want to get a massage without having my therapist work around my site and not having an area massaged. I want my chiropractic adjustments to not be awkward and feel the cannula poking my muscle. I want to be able to put lotion on in the morning, without having to work around an infusion site, I want to be able to rub and itch my skin like anybody else does. I want to not have an abdomen and sides that look like pin cushions from bleeding, bruising, painful sites.
A couple weekends ago, Seth and I laid low and stayed in, relaxing at home. We went to bed early on Saturday, I crawled into bed, got cozy, then said, “fuck, I have to change my site.” I ripped it off, and felt this sudden freedom; I started giggling, rolling around and rubbing on my sides like I haven’t done in years? I laid there for a while, before finally dragging my ass out of bed and changing my site, since you know, I have to have insulin or I’ll die and I’m a responsible adult. This insertion stung a little more than usual, perhaps because my 10 minute freedom was no more. Since that night, I’ve been thinking about it constantly.
I know my feelings are normal, but they’re not normal for me. It’s an odd feeling to want things you’ve never wanted before and in a million years, I would have never thought I’d be saying, “I’m really tired of having this fecking medical device attached to me 365/24/7!”
Interesting when the pump itself has provided me with so many freedoms, yet I want freedom from it.