All the little babies

This post is for a very special group of Moms within the D-Mom group. I have an unfortunate membership in a very elite club... being the Mom of a baby diabetic. Though Elise is no longer a baby, membership in this club is for a lifetime.

Being the parent of a diabetic is hard. Being a parent of a baby diabetic is a whole new level. The problems are many... trying to make her eat. How much will she eat? How many carbs ended up on the floor, in her hair or on her face? Drawing up 1/2 (and sometimes 1/4) units of insulin. Having to use diluted insulin. How do you tell if she's low? Checking a blood sugar while your child is sleeping in a crib. How do you reason with a baby who doesn't want a shot? And having to hold down a screaming baby to administer insulin. It. Sucks.

I don't claim to have all the answers, but I do have a few things that really helped me. And besides being a spewing ground for my angst, this blog is also supposed to be an outreach to people that are starting along the same pathways that I have walked.

Stop blaming yourself.
Even though I KNEW it wasn't my fault, I still carried that awful guilt for about 6 months. I was convinced that it was something I had/hadn't done. I look back now and just shake my head at the hours wasted wrestling with the guilt. The plain and simple truth is; it wasn't you. You didn't cause your baby to have Type 1 Diabetes. They don't really know what causes it, but it certainly wasn't you. Now stop it.

Find Community
You need people. You can't do this alone. Well, you can. But I'm quite certain you'll be certifiably insane soon. The fact that you're reading blogs is a good start. Find a support group in your area. Other D-Moms and Dads. Find someone.

Weigh it!
D-Babies are so little that even 5 grams of carbs can mean a huge swing in their BG (with Elise, even 3g could do it). A scale makes all the difference. If you don't already, start weighing your child's food. When you feel up to it, read my post on factors. They saved my brain. About 6 months post-dx, we started using carb factors and it made all the difference in the world. It's a lot of work at first, but that's when we started to see somewhat predictable numbers.

Wait, there's a blood ketone meter?
Reyna has an awesome post about this, so I'll just add my two cents. Get a blood ketone meter. Get one now. Because nothing sucks like needing to test for ketones and fishing those cotton balls out of the diaper only to find that they never got peed on, or worse are covered in poop. And yes, I have squeezed urine from a poop-laden cotton ball. Sans gloves. Then I bleached my hands (no I didn't. Don't do that. Please).

You can lead a baby to water...
But man oh man, you sure can't make them drink. Especially when they HAVE to. I'll never forget a fight I had with a CDE right after Elise was diagnosed. As well as a high BG, she had large ketones, but would not drink anything. The CDE wanted me to go out and buy some Crystal Light or something similar. Never mind that my 12 month old has never had anything but breast milk or water, this "expert" wanted me to pour some chemical concoction down my baby's throat. At wits end, I tried it, and of course, she wouldn't drink it.

What DID work, was variety. We own about 10 different sippy cups. I bought some fun straws for Elise to sip water from, and she learned very early on to drink from a cup like a big girl because it was one of her favourite ways to drink water. Also a favourite, were bottles with the sports top on them. Another trick I used was to let her suck on some crushed ice, which also helped with teething.

Labels, labels everywhere
Labels. Lots of 'em. Everywhere, and everything. I think I even saw the dog sporting one the other day. Okay, not really. But anything that is food, and that Elise eats, has a label on it.

For example... I make her pasta ahead of time, when I am less busy. I make about a serving at a time (as per the package), which for her equals about 4 servings. So on the container I store it in, I write the following on a small, white, sticky label:

*What it is
*Date it was made
*The carb factor

This makes preparing her meals very quick and easy. I don't have to try and remember how many carbs are in that pasta, or how much I should give her.
I also put labels with the carb factors on the boxes of all the snacks she eats.

The trouble with shots
This one was a hard one for us. When she was first diagnosed, we had special toys we could distract her with that were only for when she was getting a shot. Then we used stickers and stamps on the back of her hand. When she grew out of that phase, we really struggled to find a replacement. It was only after first taste of an M&M that we realized that she has a serious jones for those things. To this day, when she gets a shot, she also gets an M&M. To encourage her to try new sites (like her bum), we would offer her two M&Ms.

Being the Mom of a baby diabetic is hard. Just ask Meri. Or Laura. Shannon and Jen can tell you too. We're all Moms whose children were diagnosed so young... some before they could walk, talk, or had teeth. If you are the parent of a newly diagnosed diabetic baby and you need a shoulder to cry on, there's an email link on my profile. Please... feel free to use it.

I've been where you are. I know your tears. I know your heart is breaking. But you can do it, and if you need me, I am here.

Le sigh...

Yes... Mattias is STILL waking up (and staying up) at all hours of the night. Although 2 nights ago he went back to sleep twice by himself. I got 6 hours of sleep that night and felt like a new woman.

Yes... we are still also dealing with wonky overnight numbers. And night terrors too.

To make matters worse, our dexcom has become a compulsive liar and alarming for no reason at all, pretty much only at night. Like a few minutes ago it alarmed telling me Elise was 74, straight down. Finger check showed 151. She better %&$*% well be 151 after all the %&$*@ carbs we've stuffed into her tonight. Can you say rebound high?

Our house is on the market and in no way ready to be seen. I'm stressed, I'm tired, I'm emotional, and THIS...


... is all I want to be doing.

SERENITY NOW!

I should be sleeping...

But instead I decide to blog. Hey... free therapy, right?

So many things on my mind and I need to just get it out:

-First, thanks for all the sweet comments on my last post. Unfortunately, we don't have family here, but I have had two friends volunteer to come help out around the house. I'd love to get some sleep in during the day, but there is just too much to do...

-Because we put an offer on a house, they countered and we accepted.. YIKES! Now we have two months to sell our place. Have I mentioned that it looks like a land fill threw-up around here lately?

-I did get a bit more sleep last night, although Mattias woke me up at 1:30 am to eat. Fred wasn't in bed yet, and when I looked for him, he was sitting on the sofa folding the laundry (4 baskets full!!!). He had also started the remove some of the clutter from our downstairs area. Crazy man... I love him.

-Elise's BG was 480 at 1:00 am last night. We never see numbers like that. We rarely see numbers above 300, so it freaked me out when Fred told me. She had the same bedtime snack as always, and the same amount of insulin (which sent her low the night before), so I don't know what it could have been. It wasn't a missed low, because she was 200 at bedtime and headed steadily up after that (via the CGM).

-Even though her BG was that high, she had no ketones. Weird.

-After her correction, she woke up this morning at 240. Well, my first check showed 337, so I corrected her for that. Then the CGM asked for a re-check, so when I did I got 245, and 240. UGH!!!

-She went off to school and at 11:00 am, I got a phone call. Her teacher said her CGM was reading HIGH, and a finger check showed 405. HUH?

-After last night's high numbers and today's lunchtime high number, I can only conclude her NPH is bad. This is the first time we've ever had a bad vial of insulin in the 2 1/2 years we've been doing this.

-Have I said thank you enough for your comments and support? They are better than candy... which I have been stress-eating at every opportunity. I blame Target for selling their Valentine's candy at 75% off.

-I am officially going to bed now. Good night.

Something's got to give

It's been in a terrible week here. And while I am prone to hyperbole, the past seven days need none. The simple fact is I have hit a wall and I'm not sure I can even get back up.

Most of it is due to lack of sleep. By my calculations, I have had no more than 14 hours since last Monday. I wish I were kidding. We've had nights where we've constantly been battling lows. We've been dealing with night terrors. And each and every night, Mattias has decided to wake up and party every 3 or so hours.

Since Mattias doesn't have his own room and sleeps in ours, there's not a whole lot we can do. Last night at midnight, Fred set up the pack and play in our office and slept in there with him so I could get some sleep. Except that Elise's BG was low from 1:00 am until 5:00 am. I was up every 30 minutes checking to see if it was coming up.

The other night (well, morning since it was 5:00 am) with Mattias chatting up a storm in his crib, I completely lost it. I told Fred I would rather be dead than live like this. It was a total meltdown.

And before you call the men in white coats to take me away, of course I don't really feel like this... I am just so tired I can't even control my emotions anymore. I feel like I am perched on the edge of a very tall ledge and all it will take is the slightest breeze to send me into a free fall.

Being this tired has made it very hard to take care of Elise, and it's showing. Her numbers are crazy but I don't have the energy to figure it out. Seriously, it's all I can do to give her her insulin and prepare her food. I haven't made an actual meal in a week because it's just too overwhelming.

Add to all this the stress of buying a new house and trying to sell ours. We put an offer on an amazing house yesterday, but it's contingent on selling the one we're in now. Unfortunately, it's in no shape to be shown, and I don't even know where to start.

Are you bummed out yet?

I feel very removed from the DOC right now. Sure I've posted a few times, but really... I'm just phoning it in. I'm trying to read all of your blogs and comment; I just don't have it in me. I want to respond to all the lovely new people who have commented on my blog but there is just never any time (or energy).

I can't make Mattias sleep. I can't control Elise's diabetes or make her night terrors go away. Something's got to give and I'm afraid it just might be my sanity.

Tax time and D

I just want to start off by saying I am not an accountant. I do not play one on TV. Or even in my head. This is not tax advice. Not even close people. Consult a REAL professional if you need REAL tax advice. This is just something I found out and wanted to share in case others are unaware of claiming medical/dental expenses on their taxes.

Fred and I are not Americans. Even if we were, I don't think we'd be totally up-to-date on all things taxes. But the other day I learned about itemizing your medical expenses (Thanks Jade!). And if there's one thing most people reading this blog have in common, it's medical expenses.

First, it's important to know that you can claim only the part of your medical and dental expenses that are more than 7.5% of your adjusted gross income.

I think most of us meet that without any problem.

Unfortunately, my filing system amounts to piles of paper anywhere and everywhere throughout the house, so I'm going to be spending quite a bit of time tracking down the receipts. But I'm on a mission!

Today I went on-line to see what does and doesn't qualify, and found the government's guide to claiming medical and dental expenses. Click here for some thoroughly scintillating bedtime reading.

Here are a few that I thought might be of interest:

• Ambulance - I've read in some dx stories where the child had to be transported via an ambulance because of the severity of the situation.

• Medical Supplies - It says that band-aids are included, so why not alcohol pads? Uni-solve? Elma cream? And all the other annoying extras that this disease demands.
  
  
• Diagnostic Tools - A BG meter qualifies. So maybe the dexcom does too.
  
  
• Hospital Services - Pretty self-explanatory
  
  
• Lab Fees - Ditto
  
  
• Prescriptions - Oh my, don't we have a lot of these?
  
  
• Car Expenses - I know there are a few Moms and Dads that drive pretty far to see their endo. You can include mileage, parking fees and tolls. Read the section on transportation for more information.
  

Guide dogs and service animals are included (buying, training and maintaining), but it only says for "visually-impaired or hearing-impaired person, or a person with other physical disabilities." I wonder why that can't add a diabetic alert dog to that list?

So this was probably the most boring post ever on Death of a Pancreas, but I thought it was important enough to share. I figure there might be someone else out the who was unaware that they can claim their vasectomy, lead-based paint removal, or pregnancy test kit.

My favourite line of the whole guide? And I quote: "Medical care expenses must be primarily to alleviate or prevent a physical or mental defect or illness. They do not include expenses that are merely beneficial such as vitamins or a vacation."

Damn, guess I won't be writing off that trip to Portugal after all.

I also miss my mind

A few weeks (days, months... I'm not quite sure anymore) ago, I wrote a post titled, "Of all the things I've lost, I miss my sleep the most". And while that is very true, I also miss my brain.

I had a pretty good one, encapsulated up there in my skull. I could always tell you our bank account balance and be within $5. You could ask for pretty much anything in our house and I could find it for you right away. I knew how much our grocery store charged for a certain item, and that I had a coupon for that item that would make it free.

I even knew what day it was. I know, shocking!

Sadly, I'm a bit of a mess these days. And why not share my craziness? Here are a few of my favourite "I'm loosing my mind" moments:

-The other day I put Mattias down somewhere in the house to do something for Elise. Unfortunately, I couldn't remember where I'd put him. Now our house is just over 1600 sq. feet, so there aren't really a lot of options. I found him lying happily on Elise's bed... the third room I looked in.

-I forgot Elise's meter in our garage. I was loading the kids in the car to take Elise to school when I put her meter down on a box beside the car, made a mental note to not forget it, then promptly forgot it. Halfway to school, I remembered I had forgotten it, turned around to go home, then remembered I had a spare meter in her school bag. That's a lot of forgetting.

-While making Elise's eggs this morning, I cracked the egg into the sink instead of the bowl, wasting a perfectly good egg.

-While holding a carrot stick and a pen, I tried to write with the carrot and eat the pen.

-As I was getting into bed the other night, I was holding my giant cup o' water in one hand, and went to turn on the baby monitor with the other. I then leaned in to take a sip of water through the baby monitor antenna. Strangely enough, I didn't get anything.

-I found the TV remote in the pantry.

-I found the phone in the fridge.

-I've been telling people that I'm a year older than I really am. And not on purpose to get into a bar, or to buy alcohol. I just forget how old I am.

-And lastly, I started this post over a month ago, but forgot what I originally wanted to say, so it turned into a post about all the weird things I do because half of my brain has died from lack of sleep and the other half is too busy trying to remember carb factors to be of any use.

How about you? Any funny D-getful (as in forgetful) stories to share? Please... I can't be the only one suffering this way!

The sun bloody well better come out tomorrow

Kids have it easy. When they don't want to do something, they can lay down on the floor, kicking and screaming until they get it out of their system.

Or they can stomp around, grumbling under their breath.

Or even just sit in their bed and pout. All of these sound like a fantastic way to get rid of the pent up rage I've got brewing.

Remember my craptastic day I posted about a few days ago? Well, today would have put that one to shame. I will spare you the blow-by-blow, but my evening culminated in the fire department coming to break into my car outside the ice rink after Elise's skating lesson because I had locked my keys in the car. Actually, I'd left them in the ignition. At least it wasn't running.

My spare set were in my husband's pocket. Unfortunately, he was 25,000 feet in the air somewhere between Atlanta and Dallas. So I called Laura who gave me my city's non-emergency number and the calvary was on their way. Thanks Laura, for being the ray of sunshine beaming into my porta-potty day.

But the worst? D decided to not play nice this time around. So on top of dealing with crappy situation after crappy situation, I was chasing numbers all over the place. I just wanted to lock myself in the closet and scream the "F" word as loud and as long as I could.

Today I was done. As in, I don't want to do this anymore. Like an angry child, I wanted to kick diabetes in the shin, take all my toys and go home.

I am so tired of carb-counting, weighing food, the smell of insulin, numbers that don't make sense, interrupted sleep, finding test strips strewn about my house, all the crap I have to haul around, shots, finger pokes, ketones, stuffing food into a sleeping child's mouth. Everything. All of it. Done.

But there is no done with diabetes. We can't just walk away. In fact, just having the desire to do it makes me feel as guilty as hell. And one day this will be Elise's life. She too will feel done, and utterly trapped by the fact that she never can be.

Today, diabetes can suck it. I am giving it the proverbial middle finger... sit on it and rotate, D.

How sad is too sad?

"I just hate this so much".

Elise said this to me today as I was changing her pants and underwear for the second time in three hours. Her blood sugar has been soaring after lunch for some reason, and today Fred and I got busy cleaning out the garage to remember to ask Elise if she needed to go potty.

She was having too much fun helping us, and didn't want to go inside. Both times she stared to bawl, telling me she was sorry. I hugged her and told her that it wasn't her fault. That when her blood sugar is high, it makes her body need to go pee pee more often. I let her know that we weren't mad, and we should have been the ones to take her to the potty.

That's when she told me that she hated this (diabetes). It's enough to make your heart wither and die.

And yesterday I noticed she had been in a funk all morning. In an attempt to draw her out, I took her grocery shopping with me; just us girls. It was like pulling teeth trying to get her to talk.

First she said she was sad that Mattias's eyes weren't changing colour (she has green, he has blue, and she wants his to look like hers. Anyway you look at it, it's a strange thing to say).

Then she said she was sad she didn't have a sister. Mmmm, okay. We'll get right on that.

Then she lowered her head and was very quiet. And in a very small voice she said, "I don't like having diabetes. I want to be like all the kids at school. I don't want to have this."

I said most of the same things I had said the other day. She asked me why she has diabetes. I told her I didn't know. I told her that diabetes is a part of her. A hard part, but one that makes her so special. She seemed to think about this, and as we held hands and walked into the store she told me,

"I am special. I have diabetes. God loves me and you and Poppa love me and diabetes helps me to be special."

She seemed okay from that point on, but I wondering... is it normal for a 3 year old to be this consumed by it? I understand being sad every once in awhile, but she has said something almost every day.

When did your child start being sad/angry about diabetes? How often do they mention it? I'm wondering if I should take Elise to see a professional to help her with these feelings. Has anyone done this? Does anyone have any other tips that I could use to help Elise?

It's just breaking my heart and I don't know how to help her.

I should know better by now

Yesterday I posted those super-cool pictures of Elise's dex and the lovely flat lines. I also was chatting with my Mom last night, telling her how I have triumphantly managed the household this week while Fred has been away. It's been a crazy-busy week; with school, doctor visits, errand running, an ice storm, skating lessons, dance lessons, Valentine's party preparation all while wrangling two kids and diabetes. I was pretty much rocking it and said so.

The problem is when you put stuff like that out there into the universe, the universe pretty much laughs in your face. Then kicks you in the groin.

Thankfully, the universe decided to ignore the diabetes and pretty much screw with everything else.

Like me waking up every 90 minutes through the night because Elise was cruising along at low-normal levels.

Like me waking up 1 hour before I had to get Elise to school.

Like Elise pooping in her pull-up instead of going to the bathroom and requiring a full-on shower to get her clean.

Like when I went to get Mattias out of his crib, I find that he has spit up quite possibly everything he ever ate and it had soaked through the sheet saver, the crib sheet, and the mattress protector. It was in his hair, all over his face, and had soaked through his swaddle and pjs.

Like Mattias deciding to test the limits of his diaper and as I tried to change him, he kept putting his feet in it.

Like me running around like a crazy person trying to get everything and everyone out the door in time for Elise's school. I think my screeching hit octaves only dogs and small children could hear.

Like me realizing that the only information I was given about the treat for the Valentine's Day party was that it was mini muffins. That was it. No specifics... just mini muffins. I didn't even know if Elise would even eat a muffin. Whatever, I was over it.

Like after I dropped Elise off, I had to race home to feed Mattias and put him down for a nap, so he could be up for when I had to go back to the school to wild-ass-guess the carbs for the mystery muffins.

Like the fact that after I fed Mattias, I still had to put new sheets in the crib. It took me 20 minutes; every time I got one corner on, it would pop off as soon as I tried to get another corner on. Which led to me screaming the most colourful expletives at an inanimate object you could ever imagine.

Like when I did get up to Elise's school, it turns out that there were not only muffins, but cupcakes too! I took one look at the food, mumbled, "whatever", and threw a bunch of stuff on a plate telling Elise to, "have at it."

As I recount the wonderful-ness that was today, I can't helped but be thankful. First off, D did behave. And that is huge. I think if I had to deal with all that plus the stress that diabetes can bring, I would have gone crazy Broadway-style.

But most importantly, days like today show me that the universe can hand me the biggest crap-sandwich, and it doesn't do me in. I may not handle it with the most grace, or the most class (because let's face it, calling a crib a "mf" was not my finest moment)... but I handle it, and it makes me stronger for the next time.

There are still 2 1/2 hours left in today... I think I'll lie low for the rest of it. I wouldn't want to learn too many lessons.

Best. Day. Ever

So I've become a little obsessed with posting dexcom pics. Have you seen the weather in Texas lately? Snowy. Icy. Sleety (is that a word?). And just downright COLD! This morning it was 16 degrees F. That's -9 for my Canadian and other Celsius peeps. Translation... BRRRRR!

So there's not a whole lot to do around here except micro-manage Elise's diabetes and take pictures of the results. I give you my exhibit:

Blood Sugar Beauty; Dexcom Bears All.

I call this one "A 3 Hour Tour". It includes her bedtime snack.

This is "The Disappearing Line". It encapsulates 2 lunches, 1 breakfast, 1 dinner and 3 snacks. The missing data is from overnight when she was lying on her sensor.

"24 Hours of Bliss" Her BG didn't go above 170 or below 85 during this time period. Oh my, I love this picture so much, I am going to print it out and take it to a romantic Valentine's dinner.

I think I need a hobby.

The Understudy

I used to love acting when I was in school. I always took a drama elective, and tried out for school plays when the opportunity arose. I decided to quit when I was in grade 12 because sports were more my forte and I invested most of my time in that area.

The role of the understudies always fascinated me. You had to do all the work; line memorization, blocking, rehearsals, but chances are you probably wouldn't even get to participate. Being an understudy looked like it would kinda suck.

The funny thing is, since my daughter was born, I have been an understudy and didn't even know it. And since I was unaware of my role, I was ill-prepared when the main player went down and I was asked to take over the role.

When the curtain raised on opening night, the spotlight threatened to blind me. Diabetes... WHAT? Beta cells in the islets of WHERE? DEATH OF A PANCREAS??? I've never even heard of that play! I didn't know my lines. Where to stand. Talk about stage fright.

But thankfully, I have always loved improv and I'm pretty good at thinking on my toes. And so here I am; with a pretty big role in a very important production. We're 2 1/2 years into our run and even though I've flubbed a few lines, been late to rehearsals a couple of times and had some diva moments where I've refused to come out of my dressing room, I think I'm doing a pretty adequate job in my role of pancreas.

But in this case, I sure wish I had remained the understudy.

me circa 1992 in my junior high's production of Our Town. It's okay... I give you permission to laugh

Living with Diabetes is hard

No, this is not our mantra. And nor is it something I have ever said to Elise. Tonight she broke my heart with those 5 little words.

She's noticing now. She sees that she's different. And she doesn't like it. On Friday she told me that, "having diabetes makes me sad." Oy.

And I don't know what to do for her, besides sitting her down and letting her talk. The problem is, she doesn't say much. Not with her mouth. I don't think she has the words to adequately describe how she's feeling. But in her eyes I can see all the pain and sadness that is swimming inside of her.

I hug her and tell her that it's okay to be sad. That her Poppa and I will always be there to talk to and help take care of her. That we love her. And her diabetes makes her even more precious to us. I tell her how strong she is. But is she getting it?

As a parent, it is so hard to watch your child struggle with something you cannot fix, and neither can she. We have all said this before, but I would take it from her in a heartbeat if I could.

Yes Elise, living with diabetes is hard... but I've seen you in action. You will not only live with diabetes, but live well with diabetes. The great Nelson Mandela said, "The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but rising every time we fall."

And you, my sweet daughter, shall rise.

Courage doesn't always roar.
Sometimes courage is the quiet voice
at the end of the day saying,
"I will try again tomorrow."
- Mary Anne Radmacher

Keeping our Dex dry

When playing in snow... the dexcom is a must. It was easy to keep him dry, but warm was another story. BRRRRRRR!

A Cure or a "Cure"?

I have Grave's Disease (dx'd at 14, given Radioiodine therapy x2, now on synthroid). I take a pill everyday to make sure I have the proper amount of thyroid hormone coursing through my body. No big deal. But I'm not cured. If I didn't take this pill, I would become sick and eventually die.

I have a dear friend who has Cystic Fibrosis. About 10 years ago, she had a double lung transplant. But she is not cured. She has to take medication so her body doesn't reject the transplant. Pills to aid with digestion. She just recently developed Cystic Fibrosis Related Diabetes. Yes, the transplant saved her life. But she is not cured.

Insulin is not a cure. A transplant is not a cure. The artificial pancreas will not be a cure. That moss that grows on a tree in the middle of the rain forest in Brazil is not a cure. For me, a cure is when my daughter can live totally unfettered by diabetes. That means no shots, no pills, no finger pokes, no carb counting.

Do I think there will be a cure in Elise's lifetime? It hurts my heart to say it, but no... I don't. I would love to be proven wrong, though.

So for now, I will put my hope in technology that can help Elise live a long and healthy life. I am praying that a "cure" (or cure) will come soon.

You've got to pick a pump (or two)

Last month Fred and I attended a pump class at our endo's office. I wrote about my pump angst here. I wish I could say it has brought us closer to choosing a pump for Elise, but that wouldn't be the truth.

Fred's choice is the Omnipod. He likes the tubeless, and if I'm being honest, so do I. But, it has some strikes against it in my mind.

Problem #1 is that it is just too big for Elise. I know this sounds weird or hypocritical, but when I see the pod on Nate or Liam, it doesn't look that bad. But I think it's different for a 3 year old girl. She's petite, and girl's clothing tends to run a little tighter (yup, even at 3 years old... sigh). We sometimes have trouble getting sleeves over the CGM sensor.

Problem #2, and the bigger issue in my mind, is the .05 dosage increments. Elise is so, so sensitive to insulin, and to me, the smaller increment, the better. I've spent almost three years feeding insulin, and one of the reasons to move to a pump is to get away from that. It would also be nice to be able to set a zero basal as well.

I liked the Ping. I like the remote. I like the fact that it's waterproof. I didn't like how heavy it was. Elise already carts around her CGM receiver, and it just seems like a lot for such a little girl. And, like Fred, I'm not a fan of the tubing.

In the end, we're no closer to making a decision than we were before... just more informed on our choices. And the closer we get to our travel date to Portugal, the closer we are to having our decision made for us (for now). I will not travel overseas with minimal pump training and experience.

And there is always the point that what we're doing is working. It's just so frustrating... I really thought the pump class would help us zero in on a pump... like a light would shine down from heaven and illuminate the pump we were supposed to choose. Well, not so much.

Since we're lacking a "this is the pump we want" feeling, we're just going to keep doing what we're doing. It's a huge decision, one we'll be stuck with for the next several years, and we want to be SURE.

Hopefully we'll have a pump epiphany soon.