September 2nd, 2009 by KerriSparling in Better Health Network, Health Tips
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I wrote a quick status update on Facebook, after receiving the Solo demo in the mail and then meeting with the local Animas rep for lunch to discuss pump options. My brain was buzzing with questions.
And the flood gates were opened. Lots of comments, lots of perspectives, and lots of people who had great information to share. Turns out I’m not the only one who has been thinking about this. 🙂
I’ve been a Minimed pumper for almost six years now, and have never had an issue with Minimed customer service or the pump itself. When my pump broke two years ago, their customer service department took my call at a few minutes before midnight and a new pump was overnighted to me. I have no problems with the color, the size, or the functionality of my Minimed 522.
But two things happened that made me think about switching. One was the CGM upgrade, which I tried for ten weeks and still didn’t have any semblance of success and/or comfort with. (Thankfully, the Minimed CGM works fine for some diabetics, so it’s not just me. Appears to be personal preference.) And the second was that I haven’t seen many changes at all in the six years I’ve been pumping with Minimed (starting with a 512 and now a 522). The CGM component was a big one, but for people who aren’t using that feature, there isn’t much going on as far as upgrades that mattered to me.
So even though Minimed has been good to me, I’m on the prowl.
With Cozmo off the market, my options are limited. I’ve given a lot of thought to Omnipod, and while I love the idea of no tubing, I don’t like the idea of a larger device stuck to me for the duration. I also don’t like the idea that if I lose the PDM, I’m screwed as far as dosing my insulin. It’s important to note that I’ve never worn an Omnipod, so I’m purely speculating. And Omnipod works great for lots of diabetics that I know, and even some cute kiddo ones. But it’s not about the product – more about my personal preferences.
The Solo pump demo arrived in the mail yesterday and that thing appears to have both the tubeless delivery that I’d prefer and also the ability to disconnect the bulk of the pump, but it’s not a working model and with pregnancy goals on the horizon, I’d like to make a change sooner rather than later, if possible. Still, Solo has a lot of promise and coulda been a contenda. Could still be one, depending on their timeframe.
I’ve looked at Animas, too. The Ping seems to be my top contender for several reasons, but the main one is the meter doubling as a remote control for the pump. I’ve written countless times about my desires to have the pump reasonably concealed, and when my 522 is stashed in my bra at a dressy event, reaching for it to access the buttons turns me into a female, diabetic version of Mr. Bean. I like that the Calorie King info is stored in there. (The Dexcom/Animas integration, whenever that happens, is also a nice future-state.) I also like the option to take a hundredth of a unit. Precision is a nice option. I’m not sure how I feel about the infusion sets they use (sampling some this week) or what it might be like to use their user interface, but I want to see for myself. Thankfully, pump reps are all about hooking us up with samples so we can see if we want to make a full transition.
But then there’s the whole money thing. And the insurance thing. And the “closet full of supplies” thing that will be rendered sort of useless if I switch. And the “do I want to wrangle with a new device” thing. There’s also the “you can always go back” thing. And the “pumping isn’t permanent” thing. And the “if you continue to put weird phrases in quotes, people will get annoyed” thing.
There’s a lot to consider. And I’m excited to see what options are available to me. But there’s only so much information I can get from “official company representatives” and websites. If you’re a pumper, what are you using and why? If you’re thinking about going on a pump, what factors are playing into your decision? And if you’re like me – currently pumping but thinking about changing pump providers – what would you do?
Your feedback is, without fail, among the top resources I’ll be using to make my decision. So thanks in advance, and power to the pumpers!!
*This blog post was originally published at Six Until Me.*
August 12th, 2009 by Happy Hospitalist in Better Health Network, True Stories
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Day in, day out, it’s like a broken record. Patient comes in with uncontrolled diabetes. Patient gets sick. Patient gets patched up. Patient could care less about their health. Patient goes home to live another day, before coming back in a month. Everyday you just accept the reality of reckless self destruction, do your best to help them while they pretend to care and then send them on their way.
Except when a patient actually shows some interest in their health. Let me give you an example. I was asked to consult on a woman with shortness of breath, unbearable heartburn, aches and pains, low energy and sleep apnea. This woman weighed close to 400 pounds. Her husband was close to that as well. Together I sat them down and talked to them for darn near an hour. We talked about all the complications that come with folks in their age group. I asked them if they had a plan for success. What their motivations were. What their goals and expectations were.
They talked about how their exercise regimen. When I tried to pin down exactly what they were doing and how much and how often, it turns out that the twice a week walk around the lake was their idea of trying. They swore up and down about the their appropriate food choices, until they admitted that their biggest problem was not what they eat, but how much they eat. For an hour I heard about how hard it was. About how frustrating it was not to see any success. About how life wasn’t fair.
And then I met their polar opposites. A man and his wife both pushing 300 pounds. He was admitted with cellulitis of the leg. But both had lost a combined 220 pounds in just seven months. I was floored. 220 pounds? That put the biggest smile in the world on my face that day. I congratulated them probably 20 times.
I asked them, “I have so many patients who just can’t find a way to lose weight. How and why did you do it?” The answer was exactly what I expected.
“We had to. We were always tired. I was always hurting. I could barely walk. My wife could barely move. We considered gastric bypass but they wouldn’t do it without first doing six months of diet and exercise. Now I’m not even considering surgery. We went through our cupboards and we got rid of all processed foods. We eat healthy. We control our portions.”
Their motivation was their own. They realized they didn’t want to live their current reality. They took the initiative to make positive change in their lives and were basking in the glory of their success. What was the difference between these two couples? It was their attitude. One couple chose to make excuses for their plight. The other was doing something about it.
*This blog post was originally published at A Happy Hospitalist*
August 1st, 2009 by KerriSparling in Better Health Network, Health Policy, Opinion
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Two weeks ago, I was in Washington, DC with the Better Health team, listening to people talk about voting down government health care.
Last week, I was in Chicago at BlogHer, part of a lunch meeting with Valerie Jarrett, Senior Advisor to the President and Assistant to the President for Intergovernmental Relations and Public Liaison, listening to women at BlogHer talk about passing the government health care bill.
And I have now just entered the land of confusion.
Valerie Jarrett spoke with a room full of bloggers about health care, but she also listened. She listened while women told their personal stories and she seemed to understand that health care situations aren’t as simple to solve as we’d like them to be. Women candidly told their stories and a few tears even slipped out. But she listened intently. And she said she wanted to give a voice to those who might not speak up for themselves.
“Often the people who need it the most don’t speak up because they don’t feel like they have a voice. Give the grass roots a voice, empower them, work together informing people within their communities. You can work to help them get their voice, get info that they don’t have.”
This lady is important. Her cell phone rang several times during our lunch (it could have been THE PRESIDENT, for crying out loud) and she had her assistant take the call so she could focus on us. She handed out her card and scheduled phone calls between some bloggers and her staff to help with the specific health issues that these bloggers were dealing with. Sure, for them it was a matter of being in the right time at the right place, but she really listened. I’ve never sat in a room before with a member of high political influence who paid attention to the people more than the information on her cell phone or in her planner. (Maybe that means I’ve been in the room with the wrong politicians?)
It was a remarkable experience, and the room was electric with hope.
And now I’m even more confused about this health care issue. I want insurance coverage, I want good coverage, but I don’t want to be excluded due to my pre-existing condition. I can’t find a happy mental medium with this, but I know there has to be a way for people like me to find health coverage despite diabetes.
With that thought, I’m off to the Joslin Clinic in Boston, with my pregnant best friend in tow, to immerse myself in the best that health care has to offer. And I hope that whatever decision made by our government leaves me with access to the people I need to help manage my care.
*This blog post was originally published at Six Until Me.*
July 26th, 2009 by KerriSparling in Better Health Network, True Stories
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Earlier this week, I had a bit of a medical issue. Painful urination, high blood sugars, and the constant need to pee. (Ladies, I know you already know what’s up.) Urinary tract infection looming large. I was livid, because it was the day before I was scheduled to travel for this week’s business.
I haven’t got time for the pain, so I called my primary care physician, Dr. CT. “Hi Nurse of Dr. CT! It’s Kerri Sparling. Listen, I’m pretty sure I either have a kidney stone or a urinary tract infection, and I need to rule it out before I leave for a week-long business trip.”
Dr. CT was on jury duty. Damnit. So I had to call a local walk-in clinic, instead.
The clinic was a hole in the wall. Part of a strip mall structure. My confidence wasn’t high, but my blood sugars were and my whole body was screaming for attention, so I knew I had to follow through.
The receptionist was very nice. The nurse was even nicer. They took my blood pressure (110/74), my temperature (98.8) and a urine sample (ew). 
I should have known from the moment the sample cup was given to me that it wasn’t going to be a fun visit. The very kind nurse handed me this —>
That is not a urine sample cup. That’s like a party cup that you use for lemonade on a hot summer day. Not for pee. Oh God.
And then the doctor came in. For the sake of anonymity, we’ll call him Dr. Idiot.
“Hi. I’m Dr. Idiot.”
“Hi, I’m Kerri.”
“Kerri, I see you are here for pain when urinating. Are you urinating frequently? You see, you are spilling a significant amount of urine. I believe we may have found the source of your troubles.”
He closed his file, proud of himself.
“Dr. Idiot? On my chart there I wrote that I have type 1 diabetes. I know my blood sugar is elevated right now, which sucks but at least it’s not a surprise. But that’s not why I’m here. I actually suspect that …”
He cut me off.
“I think we need to address this first problem. You are aware of your diabetes, you say? How many times a month do you check your sugar? You know, with the glucose machine and the finger pricker?”
If I wore bifocals, it’s at this point that I would have slid them down my nose and given him a hard, Sam Eagle-type stare.
“I test about 12 – 15 times a day. But the real reason …”
“You mean a month,” he corrected me.
“No, I mean a day. I have type 1 diabetes. I wear a continuous glucose sensor. And also an insulin pump. I’m very aware of my condition, and I’m also very aware that it’s slipping out of control today because of this other issue, the pain issue. Can we talk about that?”
He looked at my chart again. “So you don’t use a meter?”
“Sir, I use a meter. And a machine that reads the glucose levels of my interstitial fluid. This is in addition to my insulin pump. I don’t mean to be rude but …”
Now he gave me a hard look. “Why the interstitial fluid? Why not the blood directly? I mean, you could have more precise readings with the blood.” He picked up my Dexcom from the chair next to me and pressed a few buttons to light up the screen. (Mind you, he did not have permission to touch it, but I’m again not saying anything.)
“You mean like a pick line? I don’t know. I’m sorry. Ask them?”
“Yes, but it would make much more sense and …”
I just about lost it.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t come here to talk about that. I want to talk about the issue I’m here for. Which is not diabetes. Or your ambitions to know more about CGMs. Please can we address what I’m here for?”
“The sugar in your urine.” With finality, he says this.
“NO. The fact that I think I have a UTI or a kidney stone. Please. Help. Me?”
I kid you not – we went ’round and ’round about this for another ten minutes. He didn’t believe me that I was at least sort of familiar with diabetes. His ignorance included, but wasn’t limited to, the following statements:
- “High sugar causes frequent urination. Maybe that’s why you are peeing often?” (Not because I was drinking a liter of water per hour to flush my system? Nooo, couldn’t be that.)
- “Did you have weight loss surgery?”
- “Grape juice also causes high blood sugar.”
- “That thing should really be pulling blood samples. Pointless otherwise.” (Meaning my Dexcom.)
- “The urinalysis won’t be back until Friday, and in the meantime you should start on a regimen of insulin immediately.”
- And also: “I didn’t peg you for a pink girl.” (Are. You. Serious??)
The end result, after an escalating argument that involved me yelling, “Stop. Talking about my diabetes and PLEASE focus why I’m here!” was a prescription for Macrobid that I could elect to take if my symptoms didn’t alleviate, and the instructions to call back on Friday for official lab results.
“Thank you. Really. Can I go now?”
He at least had the decency to look ashamed.
I’ve had some wonderful doctors over the last 30 years, and my health is better for it. But this guy? Complete disappointment.
*This blog post was originally published at Six Until Me.*
July 25th, 2009 by KerriSparling in Better Health Network, Patient Interviews
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“Friends for Life … this conference is delicious. It’s like the Woodstock of diabetes,” he said, pacing around the room and smiling warmly.
Meet Joe Solowiejczyk.
According to his bio on the CWD website, “He [Solowiejczyk] currently works for LifeScan, as Manager of Diabetes Counseling & Training and is a faculty member of the Johnson & Johnson Diabetes Institute. Joe is healthcare professional who has lived with Type 1 diabetes for over 47 years, Mr. Solowiejczyk has been able to translate his personal experience into patient care.”
To my untrained eye, Joe is the “guy who gets it.” He’s a diabetes nurse educator, and a person with diabetes himself. If he was a member of my personal medical team, he’d be the one I take most seriously because when I say, “It sucks,” he could respond, truthfully, with “I know.”
Joe hosted a session at Children With Diabetes called “It’s Not Just a Numbers Game.” This grabbed my attention because I write constantly about how an A1C is only one part of diabetes management. There’s all this emotional and mental stuff that comes into play.
“Ask me if I like it,” Joe said to the group of us. He paused for a second. “I hate it.”
I was sitting at a table with a bunch of CWD parents (including Bennet and Michelle) and I heard them all chuckle, but I just nodded in agreement. Empowerment is being able to say that diabetes is hard and that it sucks sometimes, but still forging ahead and working towards better health. I was glad to hear Joe telling this group of parents (and adults diabetics) that diabetes doesn’t have to be something we like. We can hate it, openly, and still remain positive.
“I schedule my diabetes depression days,” he said. “I plan them and then I tell everyone I know to call me every hour and tell me how courageous I am.” He laughed. “After about an hour, I’m sick of it and I just want to move on with my day.”
I like Joe. I like listening to him talk and I respect him for managing diabetes for over 47 years. I respect him for saying, “It took years for me to be able to say, ‘I’m having a hard time with diabetes,’ without it being a chip on my integrity.” This statement resonated for me because I think people want to read blogs about diabetes and find a lot of upbeat moments and happiness. But the truth of life is that there is an emotional gamut to be run and we have the right to run it, diabetes or no diabetes.
“You can not like it and still do it. Hating it [diabetes] and doing it are not mutually exclusive states.”
He talked about the daily duties of a person with diabetes, from waking up in the morning and testing to all of the bits and pieces of precision management that are required along the way. The possibility of a cure was mentioned. And while many diabetics say “I’ll eat the contents of an entire Crumb’s Bakery,” or “I’ll drink orange juice FOR FUN,” Joe smiled gently.
“If there’s a cure? What will I do? I’ll sit on a park bench for three weeks and stare at the sky and do nothing.”
It’ll be 23 years for me this September.
I’d love to sit on a park bench and count clouds for a while.
*This blog post was originally published at Six Until Me.*
