"Na-loe" and my dead insulin pump

Chloe modeling her soccer shirt. This was a gift from some of Matt's co-workers.

Chloe is back to camp this week. Our neighbor's son, Nate, who is Chloe's age, is also going. In an effort to conserve gas and time, we decided to carpool. I take the kids in the morning to camp and my neighbor picks them up in the afternoon.

Carpooling this week has turned out to be the funniest and most tiring event ever. Sitting in the back, Chloe and Nate are like an old married couple. Every day this week they start up with the same conversation they had the day before. Chloe declares that the princess seat is HERS, Nate could care less. They then begin talking about animals and which animals would then make the best monsters. Thursday, however, Chloe wanted to listen to Hi*gh Scho*ol Musi*cal on her I-Po*d. She immediately turned it on as soon as we left the house. Nate, obviously not a HSM aficionado, looked dumbfounded for a minute then began talking to Chloe just as he had every morning before about elephants as monsters. Chloe was engrossed in the I-Po*d and wasn't listening to Nate. Next thing I hear is Nate saying, "Hey, you're not listening to me...put that away and listen to me!". I had to intervene and turn it off.

As any of you who have carpooled kids before know, every afternoon on the way home Chloe and Nate would devise a play date and declare that they were going to one or the others house to play. This week has turned into a Chloe and Nate love fest. I think they might possibly ask for a sleepover next! So, it was Nate's dad that came up with "Na-loe" for the pair. That's how we have been referring to them. They are inseparable this week, which is really funny because we have a weekly playgroup together and they don't get along there. Can't wait to see next week's playgroup.

In other news, my insulin pump decided to kill itself off yesterday afternoon and perform a "fatal error" while I was priming it with more insulin. I immediately called my insulin pump provider and they overnight-ed me a new pump. But, let me tell you returning to shots for 18 hours while I waited for my new pump does not a happy camper make. I am on a quick-acting insulin which is the closest man-made insulin to what our own pancreas produces (well, at least your pancreas dear reader, I got a fatal error with my pancreas some time ago and it stopped producing insulin--hence the juvenile/type I diabetes). This means that when you go back to sticking yourself with needles of insulin you have to do so every couple of hours which makes a full night's rest impossible.

To add insult to injury, U*P*S could possibly have developed the dumbest & most useless tracking system known to man. Beginning at 7:30 a.m. I received a computer phone call from said carrier that an important next day air package had been mail from my pump provider and someone needed to be home to sign for it. The very important package (which was my new pump) would arrive between 8 a.m. and 5:30 p.m. and to remain home. I could also press 1 for the tracking number. I did so, got the tracking number, went to website, entered the tracking number to find out what I already knew, that it was en-route and would be delivered some time today.

Now, I knew from my pump provider that they spent the big bucks for delivery and that my pump should arrive at my doorstep before 10:30 a.m. so U*P*S info of before 5:30 p.m. wasn't the most useful. I went about my daily morning routine which was interrupted every 30 minutes with the same "update" telephone call from U*P*S. Is this system a joke? Do they like to harass their next day air customers with this useless update? I am fairly certain that U*P*S had that phone call update system devised by the same person that completed the service reminder phone call for my oil/furnace provider. Seriously, other than blurring their logo, erasing our address, all I got was this....
Apparently, they are coming to my house anytime between now and eternity. Convenient for you?

Nevertheless, the package arrived at 9:50 a.m. When the U*P*S man arrived bearing my new pump I was elated if not exasperated by their constant phone calls and I began singing the Hallelujah chorus! I was so happy until I went to program my insulin rates (basal rates) into my new pump and realized my old pump took all my rates with it when it died. So, I am still on the old-fashioned injections until my doctor calls me back with my basal rates. UGH!

There is one person enjoying all this, Chloe. Every time I go to test my blood sugar and take an injection she comes running, "Wait for me, wait for me!" and she must watch the entire procedure. She told me yesterday afternoon that she wants an insulin pump. "What for?!" I asked. "Because I do," was her response. "No you don't. That would mean you would have to get diabetes and you don't want that," I told her. "Why not?" she asked. "Because you don't," was all I could muster.