When you get a fresh pair of running sneaks, how do you feel? I always feel like Usain frickin’ Bolt and think can run like 20, 5-minute miles. The reality remains that I’d be happy to simply run FOR 5 minutes, but that’s not the point. I always feel inspired by something shiny and new, something that promises performance enhancement (and/or a smidgen of hope that I’ll become prettier, funnier, skinnier, etc., but that’s neither here nor there.)
This applies to everything though, friends. Not just sneakers. New mascara…SO exciting. I am obsessed with eyelashes. A new water bottle? Hell ya! I’m going to drink the crap out of every drop of water I can possibly carry around in this ridiculously overpriced, BPA-free vessel of first-world problems.
Recently, I was at a spin class in SOHO (the neighborhood I truly believe actually stands for ‘Skinnies Only, Heavies Out’), and my badass instructor, Liz and her very public insulin pump approached me after class. She had noticed my pump (Derek) and his sloppy tubing half-dangling out the side pocket of my leggings. I was honored. I could have fainted I was so happy to be talking to one of my people! It was as if Chrissy Teigen had just called me up and asked me to go out for chicken nuggets together. Here Liz was, a totally normal fitness buff, who genuinely believes that the secret to life is embedded in a hip hop lyric, jamming with me about her deep dark diabetes secrets. She told me a story about the time she accidentally spilled all of her insulin on her lap on a flight to China. “I was in a massive metal bird 30,000 feet above f’ing Russia and it was just gone. All of it. I’ve never felt my stomach hit rock bottom so fast in my life.” She then proceeded to tell me that she has CGM, it was the greatest thing that’s ever happened to her, and that I needed to bang on my doctor’s door at 9am the next day and beg for one.
I guess this is what people mean when they say they’ve had a lightbulb moment. I felt a little spark fire from some sort of neuron or whatever in my brain. I almost reached out to hug her. I realized that just like I often need a saucy new little workout outfit to be inspired to workout again, I needed some saucy new little diabetes gear to kick my ass back into gear. Liz was right, I needed to get a CGM – and I needed to get it as soon as possible.
No, I didn’t go bang on my sweet, confusingly Russian and/or maybe Italian doctor’s door at 9am demanding a continuous glucose monitor. But I did make some phone calls and fill out some forms online. And now here I am waiting for my very own, insurance-approved performance enhancement promise in the form of a Dexcom G5 Monitor. The shiny new thing that’s going to remind me that life is short and a few sacrifices here and there will make it much more enjoyable. And to be honest, I’m so excited. I feel like it’s diabetes Christmas. Yes, it’s another infusion, another needle, and another battery I have to change. But for now, just the anticipation of a new gadget is exactly what I need.
So, thank you, Liz, for reminding me that “treat yo self” doesn’t always have to be Donna Meagle and Tom Haverford style. It can be a hi-tech, tiny little doo dad that’s going to check my blood sugar every few minutes. A small price to pay for something that will whip me back into the shape that not only I want to be in, but deserve to be in.