The past week or so, a total of five people have asked me exactly what it is hanging off my body. I am glad when people ask, because I get to tell them a little bit about me and I feel like I sort of get to educate them a little bit. Anyway, it’s an insulin pump.

When I was 13 years old, I was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. I wasn’t born with it, like most type 1’s, but when I was very young, I got a viral infection that attacked my pancreas, destroying its ability to produce insulin. I wasn’t diagnosed until years later. The day I found out marked a huge turning point in my life. I was literally dependent on this manufactured hormone in a tiny little bottle. I would give myself roughly six shots of insulin everyday to manage it, not to mention testing my sugar. It sucked a little bit being a teenager and not being able to go anyplace without a cold pack, a bottle of insulin, and at least two needles. Yet it kept me alive and sort of healthy. I had a pump for awhile in high school, but I hated it and in typical teenage style, didn’t see why I had to wear it. So I went off it.

It wasn’t until I was in college that I started having very serious problems with my diabetes. In sophomore year, my roommate Emily had to call an ambulance to waken me from a diabetic coma (caused when your sugar gets too low). In junior year, I was admitted to ICU for a week and a half with a condition called diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA, a chemical imbalence caused when your body breaks down fat and muscle instead of sugar for energy), which is life threatening. Over the next year and a half, I was admitted to the hospital two more times, and had to have ambulances called seven more times. As you can imagine, this not only took a huge toll on me, but on the people around me also…AND on my finances. (I had 80/20 insurance, and each hospital bill can cost up to $100,000. Twenty percent of $100,000 times 3 is not something I have in my wallet.)

About, I made a decision that something absolutely had to change. I could afford (literally) to be in the hospital again. I couldn’t have a husband worry about waking up next to me in a coma every night. I weighed on it a lot, and even prayed about it (this was back before I was a Christian and churchgoer) and decided to go back on the insulin pump, with the recommendation of my doctors. It was tough to adjust to again, but ultimately, it has made my life much easier. I no longer have to take six shots of two different types of insulin daily. I put insulin in my pump and connect it to a port, which is moved once every three days or so. I don’t have to carry it around with me, because I have it attached to me in my pump. Basically, when I eat, I calculate how many carbs and sugars I am eating, program it into my pump, and the pump gives me the exact amount of insulin I need. I test my sugar, and the tester I use beams my blood sugar to my pump and it gives me the exact amount of insulin I need. If I want to eat a candy bar, I eat it and the pump knows how much insulin I get. Most importantly, I have had ZERO hospital visits (well, one, but only because I had pneumonia) since I got it and ZERO midnight ambulance calls! It has made my life a lot easier.

Now it isn’t all sunshine and roses. The pup gives me a constant stream of insulin, and as most diabetics can tell you, insulin makes you hungry. So I am basically hungry all the time, which has made me gain weight. It is not uncommon for people on the pump to gain a lot of weight. It is my prayer that I somehow find the resources (gym membership, workout buddies, moral support) to get to a more healthy weight. Also, insulin pumps are not cheap. They can cost $20,000 and the supplies can run  $250 a month. But by some miracle from God, mine was paid for 100% by my insurance, as are most of my supplies.

I could sit back and complain constantly about being cursed with a disease like this (and believe me, I have), but it really could be so much worse. AT least I have some sort of insurance that is paying for this. I have been able to stay out of the hospital for a year now, with no real emergencies adding to my medical debt. I have a husband and a family and friends who know about my illness and take care of me. I (usually) have a positive state of mind about it. Who knows, ten years down the road, we could have a cure for this. Until then, I just keep praying that I can stay healthy and happy and thank God that I can still indulge in my sweet tooth occasionally!

So yeah. That’s what that thing is. It isn’t some “awesome, retro pager” or “an external pacemaker” or anything else. It’s just my portable, purple lifeline. Ask me to see it sometime!