|Well, that's annoying.|
It is times like this where a rage bolus starts to sound really, really attractive - much like ice cream after a bad day, or Robert Downey Jr. in Iron Man. (Am I the only one that thinks he's stupid-hot in that movie? Aaron thinks it's a weird crush to have. Maybe I just like the fact that his glowy chest thing looks a lot like a backlit insulin pump through his shirt. End digression.) I knew that bolusing from the pump wouldn't work, so I retrieved the back-up Humalog pen I always carry in my purse. I dialed up two units.
Then I thought, "Wait - where the hell am I going to inject this?" Like so many other parts of the country, mid-January is darn cold in Nebraska, and I was bundled up in several layers. Layers that weren't at all conducive to a tummy injection site.
My solution, as it has been many times before, is to use whatever body part is most easily accessible, which meant that last night I shunked that pen needle into the side of my calf.
|These are not my legs.|
I've also been known to use the top of my forearms. Hey - it's prime, untouched real estate, and I'm using however much of it I think I can get away with.