It was no surprise when, after reviewing my latest blood glucose monitor readings, my HIV specialist prescribed insulin injections. (He’s been working on me about this.) Diet was not doing enough and the pills could only do so much for so long (approximately three years). I had already been to a diabetes clinic at Women’s College Hospital earlier this month so I was preparing the ground for this. I went back there yesterday with my prescription and to learn all about insulin pens, needles, insulin vials, etc. It was a lot of information to take in but very helpful staff, a nurse and dietitian, gave me hand-outs and wrote down very specific instructions as to when to take my shots, when to test, etc.
This morning I laid everything out on the floor in front of my recliner, like the pieces of a model airplane, read the sheets of instructions, and very tentatively prepared for my first injection. (I didn’t inject last evening because I had taken one of the old medications yesterday morning.) For someone who can’t stand to watch as my blood is tested, this went very well. There is no blood to see by poking the needle in and then gently pushing the plunger (pen cap). It went fine but it’s going to take awhile before I can just discreetly slip into a washroom during an evening meal, peel up my shirt and plunk a shot into my side. (We decided the only place I could possibly find enough to pinch for the injection is on either side of my abdomen, parallel with my belly-button. My weight, stretched over a 6’3″ rack of ribs, is only 130 pounds. That’s down ten pounds since the end of April.)
I was a little freaked out yesterday but 24 hours has eased my anxiety somewhat. So three scoops of ice cream for everyone!