Finally, I am a pumper. Honestly, the first couple of days have seemed, well, anti-climatic after all of the negative scenarios that have been lurking in my head for the last couple of months. I had so worked myself up over the past experience; it's all I could see.
You know how sometimes you're watching a baseball game and it endlessly drags on? You wish you could just the highlights, the game-making plays. The last three days have been rather like that so I will simply give you bullet points.
Fear #1 Inserting Infusion Set
In my pumping days of yore, the only option was pushing that needle on the set into your self. There was no "what? that's it?" to it. And, I might add, the metal needle remained in. Finding the right angle for comfort was, at best, like finding a needle in a haystack (pun intended). I must admit that the sound of the insertion device was a bit daunting; I could feel the coming wince as I practiced pulling back and releasing.
Needless to say, I practiced (procrastinated) for a while before trying the real thing. I finally made the real run, bracing for the sting to come, clinching my teeth....what-- it's done? It's in? Well. color me purple. I felt not a thing. Today, I had my first solo changing of the infusion set. I confess to using 2 sets. The first didn't make it in; I grasped the sides in the wrong place and got "tnk" instead of the "thunk." Tried to re-load it, but that just didn't work (how much do these things cost?). Having learned where I needed to push in to release the set, 2nd try much better. And, yes, I was waiting for the sting that my brain said would come; it didn't.
Fear #2 Tubing
Hey, it's like buying clothes. What size do you wear? 42" 0r 23"? I was anticipating yards upon yards of tubing (I am very imaginative) to be coiled so that it could catch on something. Recall that I have had recurring nightmares in the last 23 years of getting wrapped up in the tubing like a mummy, unable to move. Not so with the new and improved. I am a tosser and a turner when I sleep, but the 23" is short enough for me to still be able to toss and turn in total comfort. There is the extra, added bonus of being able to disconnect for the shower.
Don't get me wrong: I've had a couple of those "oops" moments where I moved and the pump didn't go with me, but that's my fault for forgetting to clip it to my clothing. Even with gravity working against it, the set stayed securely fastened. And why doesn't Consumer Reports cover insulin pumps (yes, I DID check)?
Fear #3 Site Comfort
Conversations with me, myself and I: Do I feel it? Do I not feel it? Maybe I feel it. I don't know, maybe I don't feel it. Do you think I feel it?
Even as a stomach-sleeper, tosser and turner, the site stays where I put it, needle and all. I keep looking for redness, pink in the tubing, the occlusion alarm to go off -- nothing, I tell you.
Fear #4 Hating It
I was prepared to hate it. I expected to hate it. On some level, I do believe I'm disappointed that I don't hate it. The past few days haven't been perfect, but I see, rather than sense, the possibilities; they are palpable.
And I find that girl who so loves immediate gratification saying, "The best is yet to come."