It should not cost this much to live a healthy life

Not to get into too much name calling, but  Edgepark, the company that is supposed to work as an interim between Dexcom and my insurance company, is crap. I know I've complained a bit about my current CGM, but my biggest issue with it- even more than the fact that I constantly lose it because it falls out of my pocket every single day- is that my insurance will not cover it because the Dexcom company is out of their network. Fine. I get it. But I don't get it either. And I don't get more than I do get.

Also, why is one of my neighbors using a jackhammer at 9:45 am on a Sunday? Jerk.

I don't get why a three month supply of disposable sensors costs $1400. I get that my insurance company doesn't want to pay that because I don't either. I use one sensor a week, sometimes I can make them last two, usually it's more like ten days. And each one costs about $120, give or take. On a good day my insurance would cover half of it, so every three months we were paying about $700 so I could keep using this thing.

As I've mentioned before I am in the process of getting a new pump that has CGM built in, partly because I don't want to keep walking about like I'm the freakin' Batman with multiple medical devices hanging on my belt, but mostly because I am sick of paying hundreds of dollars out of pocket for supplies. Did I say hundreds? I meant thousands.

 

Because, and this is why I think Edgepark is crap, I was told that my Dex supplies were now going to be $50 instead of $700 dollars. They found a work around and were going to submit my supplies via prescription and everything was going to be hunky-dory. Then I look in my bank account and see that Edgepark has taken the equivalent of a MORTGAGE PAYMENT out of my checking for supplies without even thinking about calling me. This is why they are crap. The customer service at that company is nonexistent. I've called them twice, sent the supplies that I CANCELLED back to them, and still my money is gone. I was told I would be called back by the person in charge of my account, but he appears to have fallen off of the Bifrost Bridge, never to be heard from again unlike some people who just keep coming back.

 

Best god of mischief ever.



 

Needless to say, I am pissed off. The people I have managed to get in touch with at that company explained it thusly: "Oh, your insurance wouldn't process this as a prescription." This is the explanation I've been given for why they took more money out of my account than I would have spent if I'd just bought the stupid supplies from Dexcom myself. It never occurred to anyone at this company to call me and say hey, this is what's going on? How would you like us to proceed?  Now I've got to make more phone calls, and haggle, and yell at people who are just doing their jobs because the company they work for stole money from me.

 

"Many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view," said Obi-wan Kenobi. Well this is my point of view.

 

It really begs the question, though....why is this stuff so expensive in the first place? With CGM I am in better control of my diabetes than I have been in years. I am now at a lower risk for complications- things that would likely hospitalize me and cost oodles more than $120 a week for a stupid sensor. So why won't my insurance cover it? I'm talking about a little bit of plastic and a two inch wire about the thickness of a couple human hairs held together with some medical tape. This is what's costing $120 a week. I've been assured by the pump company that I am completely covered for pump supplies and CGM with my insurance since they are in the all important network.

 

I'm not holding my breath.

 

5/28 update: Ashley at Edgepark is a great person. She took one look at my account today and immediately started to refund the money that came out. She took accountability and dealt with the problem and I feel a whole lot better about everything now.

Upgrading Myself

Enough about my foot.  :P

I have been looking into upgrading my bionic pancreas, a.k.a. my pump, lately. As I may or may not have grumbled, I have a love-hate relationship with my current CGM (continuous glucose monitoring). I love that it continuously tests my blood glucose, but I hate that it's a second device, I keep losing it, it likes to fall out of my pocket, it can be wildly inaccurate, it doesn't work with my regular old glucometer or with my pump...and it's a second device that I have to carry around with me, sometimes in my purse where it doesn't read and often on my belt like I'm Batgirl or something.

It's like this, only not cool.

 



 

The company that makes my insulin pump called me about a month ago to "see how I was doing" and "let me know that I may be eligible for an upgrade." I interpret that as, Hey, we want more of your money, but whatever. They asked how my HbA1c was and if I was familiar with "continuous blood glucose testing," to which I replied that I'd been using it for almost two years and my HbA1c was fine, thank you. Then I am told that their new pump is all in one and does both the pump stuff and the CGM stuff. This isn't exactly news to me since my doctor told me it was coming years ago, but I let them send me some info on it. Basically, it's my current pump with more bells and whistles. Yay.

But my doctor has a love-love affair with the Dexcom company and its products. He thinks it's more accurate. He isn't a big fan of my current pump. And for the past few years I've let him lead and influence me in this, because frankly he knows more than I do about them and has researched them, and he's, y'know, my doctor.

Well, I'm gonna put my foot down this time. I want one of these and have already started working with my pump rep to get it.

And I even like the color.

Is it as accurate? Maybe, maybe not. I still have to finger stick. It doesn't continuously monitor my blood sugar as often as my current CGM does. But it's one less thing I have to carry through airport security when I go to Chicago in June, it's something that I am familiar with, it can predict up to thirty minutes in advance a high or low blood sugar...and the biggest thing of all, it's likely covered by my insurance whereas Dexcom is NOT.

We'll see if it's worth it.

She's a super freak...

I am a control freak. I hate not being in control of things. It doesn't matter what the thing is that we're talking about, either. Diabetes, check. Other people being stupid, check. My foot, double check.

Honestly, I thought it would be better by now. I long ago reconciled myself to the fact that I will be a diabetic for the rest of my life. I have diabetes, and I am okay with that. I don't like it, but I can deal with it, and I get better at dealing with it everyday. But this thing with my foot?

Pardon me a second here, Mom.

IT FUCKING SUCKS.

I'm in pain, which is something that I haven't really been experiencing with this foot thing. Discomfort, yes. Frustration, yes. But it hurts now more than it has since I actually injured it. I've been back in real shoes for a couple of weeks, and I've been walking tentatively but getting around pretty well. The last few days have not been so good. I iced it a couple days ago and it felt SO much worse. And I've been wearing the plastic molded arch supports in my shoes but those seem to be hurting both of my feet. How much do they hurt? So much I pulled this out of the closet:

Expletive, expletive, redacted, expletive.

 

It's not really helping, either. Both of my feet hurt, my knees hurt...I mean, I'm falling apart. I've been following my doctor's orders and I am not better. I want it to be better NOW. However, I am afraid that this is out of my control, too, like most things. Yes, I admit most things are actually out of my control and I just need to let go of them. Believe it or not, I'm trying to do that.

 

I know, you're amazed.

 

I have an appointment with the podiatrist on Monday, where I hope I will hear some good news. I miss exercising like I used to. I miss walking without people asking me how I'm doing or if I'm getting better. I miss being able to take a real step without fear. I have control over how I take care of myself and my attitude, and that's what I need to focus on. I know what I can and can't control, and I need to spend my time working on what I can control- like my blood sugar most of the time, exercising when I can and how I am able, and keeping a positive attitude. I need to ignore what I cannot control because otherwise...

This is my brain trying to control everything.







A New Perspective

So last week, huh?

I wasn't going to write about it given my penchant for being flippant, but then I got to thinking that maybe I needed to just for my own cathartic reasons. Writing is my therapy after all. But I promise I'll at least try to not wax too much philosophic.

Monday the 15th my husband and I were eating lunch at a Chinese restaurant celebrating my doctor telling me I don't need to be on crutches anymore when the TV stopped showing soap operas and started to show the bombings at the Boston Marathon...which New Kid Joey McIntyre had just finished running and where I knew there were people I know cheering him and others on. For one horrifying moment I had no idea who was alive or dead (fortunately they are all fine and uninjured and back online where they belong.) Who really gives a shit about crutches?

Wednesday, after some dumbass sends poison to the POTUS, a Texas fertilizer plant blows up in an explosion that for both my husband and I immediately conjured up images of nuclear bombs. It also reminded me of when the PEPCON plant blew up in Henderson when I was a kid...only there weren't residential areas backed up right next to it because it was a rocket fuel plant for God's sake. One of my coworkers has friends in the fire department in West, Texas, and the last time I talked to her there'd been no word on them. I kind of have to walk with a cane. Big whoop.

Late Friday night another of my coworkers got word her brother had been killed by a drunk driver at about 5:30 pm. I feel really guilty complaining about anything right now.

And yet I still do, because we as humans are inherently selfish and as long as it didn't happen to us there's a little part of us, maybe the five year old us that never goes away, that thinks, "What's the big deal? It didn't really affect me, so business as usual, right?"

But that's NOT right, because even though I didn't know anyone who got hurt in Boston it is still my favorite city the way Paris is some people's favorite city. And though the people I know in Texas all seem to be okay, there's a whole town that's half gone because the "it won't happen to me" mentality of people stacked a lot of flammable crap in a place with other flammable crap. And even though it wasn't my brother who was killed senselessly by a twenty seven year old woman who was drunk at 5:30 in the afternoon and walked away from the accident without a scratch, I am still almost paralyzed with fear when my husband leaves for work in the morning because I've been reminded that life is not guaranteed, and that it can be taken away from you in less than a second, and there is not really a damn thing you can do to control this.

This week has reminded me all too well of not just my mortality, but the mortality of everyone I love. Like Mr. Bennet says in Pride and Prejudice (I'm paraphrasing here) I'm sure that this feeling will pass sooner than it should and I'll be back to my whiney self in no time. But for now I am going to try to not be that negative whiney girl I usually am, and hopefully I can stick with it for at least as long as I've been off of caffeine (which has been since February if you care to know.) If nothing else, I'll try to follow this advice...

Getting Well Soon is Hard to Do

What the hell IS "well" anyway?

I think "well" is pulling on two pairs of sneakers (not a sneaker and a boot) and being able to go take my dogs for a walk, or getting on the stationary bike we bought and doing thirty minutes of aerobic cycling while I watch last Friday's episode of Blue Bloods. "Well" is having full use of my arms again and being able to make myself a cup of caffeine free coffee in a regular old coffee cup.  "Well" is not keeping my foot up on a trash can while I'm at work so my foot isn't swollen at the end of the day. "Well" is not having to choreograph getting in and out of the car, going to the bathroom, or pretty much everything requiring movement. I'm looking forward to being "well."

Right now I'm  just making it a day at a time and knowing that each day brings me that much closer to being healthy again...or as healthy as I can be. It's all relative.

"...from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint- it's more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey...stuff." --Not Albert Einstein, and it kind of got away from him anyway.

 



Fact of the matter is, though, that even once my foot is healed I'm not really "well" because I still have to choreograph food, and make sure that I have candy in my desk at work, and still have to count carbs and watch what I eat and keep changing insertion sets.  You know that moment when your brain suddenly pulls free of the fog of everyday blah and has this bright moment of clarity that suddenly gives you a new lease on life? It's like that, only in reverse. And once I made this realization I got a little pissed off because I've had it in my head that "well" is what I need to be striving for and like Sisyphus I'm never going to freaking get there.

 

So I'm not going to be "well" any time soon. What does that leave me? Better. I can work toward being better. So I'll do that, I guess.

 

 

So what the hell is "better?"

Well, "better" is no longer wanting to scream when I turn the wheel of my car because my arms hurt so much that I think I might need morphine. "Better" is being able to walk on my injured foot without crutches (but totally not doing that because I'm afraid I'll over do it and screw up the healing process.) "Better" is admitting that I HATE CRUTCHES and NEVER EVER WANT TO BE ON THEM AGAIN and being okay with that. So it looks like I am better.

On a lighter note, my husband stumbled across a Pintrest page that had me literally laughing so hard I almost needed to change my pants because it is ALL about Type 1 diabetes. I then got lost on that blasted site looking for all pictures related to Type 1 and found so many that I needed to make an album of my own: https://pinterest.com/bookdivalv/type-1-aint-type-2/. 

 

If you've never been on Pintrest before I warn you to set aside an hour or two because once you start over there you will be stuck for hours...I started this blog at 9 am and have been on Pintrest pretty much since then laughing my butt off... And you know what? Rob Paulsen is right-

                         "Laughter is the best medicine...you can't O.D. and the refills are free."

 



The Glad Game...not something usually played at the Pity Party

Do you remember the old Disney movie "Pollyana" that starred Haley Mills? When I was a kid I loved that movie. I've never read the book, but I had the movie on tape and I watched it over and over, almost to the point I had it memorized. In it Pollyana played this thing called "the glad game" where she'd try to think of things that made her glad when her life was not going so well. I've been playing it in my head the past few days...and I keep losing.

When regular fail just isn't good enough

 

Yes, my foot has an injury that is making it hard for me to get around. I am rubbish on crutches. I can barely walk with them, let alone carry anything, work, take a shower, help with dinner, or do pretty much anything except drive. I ache all over because I have zero upper body strength and there are muscles being using right now that I am pretty sure have never been used before in my life. My blood sugars have been *mostly* okay though all of this, though the fact that I can't do any exercise (other than moving from one room to another, which makes me break a sweat) is taking its toll. And if I don't blow out my right knee before this is over it will be a miracle.

 

Oh, and I missed this on Saturday:

 

I got the Maroon 5 tickets in November. The seats weren't this good, but still.

 

This is the pity party talking, though. I have more than enough good things and wonderful things in  my life to make up for this temporary inconvenience. I do. And I can list them until I'm blue in the face. I have an amazing husband that is taking care of me. I have a pack of dogs that love me. I have a job I love, friends that are there for me, staff that are willing to pick up some extra work because I can't do it. I can still drive myself around. I am getting exercise every time I pick up those crutches. I have the time to take off of work and heal. I missed Maroon 5 but I'm not missing New Kids on the Block. Rob Paulsen liked a Facebook post I tagged him in, which is epically cool. And the most obvious, this is only temporary...

 

So why am I still depressed and cranky?

 

Because this is how I feel emotionally

 

I am listening to positive music. I am reading positive books (and since I read mostly Young Adult literature that's a hard thing to do because apparently all that teens want to read these days is depressing dystopian garbage.) I am forcing myself to think happy thoughts, and maybe that's my problem. I am forcing myself to be happy when I'm really not. How can I be happy? I'm the one who tries to take care of things and now I'm a burden on everyone I love and I can't even get myself a drink unless it's in a sippy cup...

 

Granted, my version of a sippy cup is AWESOME

 

I think I just haven't given myself time to wallow in a little self pity so I can pick myself up and deal with it. I keep thinking to myself "I can handle this" and I know I can, because what choice do I have, really? Even when I stayed home from work the day after I tore my plantar fascia I was like, "Oh, well. Missing a concert I didn't really want to go to anyway." (Lie. Just a flat out lie.) "Oh, well. Gonna have to use some sick leave. No biggie." (Lie. I am surely going to miss out on bonus days now and I don't feel sick at all.) "Oh, well. I can stay home and write." (Lie. I haven't been able to write anything outside of a blog and that's one of the most frustrating things ever.) I keep saying I'm fine to everyone including myself but I'm not and I won't let myself realize it. Well, until now.

 

 

Better of Ted, 2009-2010

Gone but not forgotten...

That Soothsayer Wasn't Messin' Around

Today is the Ides of March, and brother, I wasn't prepared for it. At. All. Beware the Ides of March?  Dude, that's the understatement of the year so far.

Everything started out normal today. I woke up feeling pretty good. Got in my 30 minutes of exercise, got myself some coffee and some lunch packed, and I was ready to start my day. I made it to the car, put my stuff in it and....water is seeping out of my garage.

Well, I've lived in this house long enough to know not to ignore things like this, and when I went into the garage I found the water softener had sprung a leak.

Water, water everywhere...

 

No problem, though I admit I had a brief moment of panic. I called the plumber, my husband came home so I could cover the desk at work, and it didn't even cost us a second mortgage to get fixed. Little bump in the road, but out of the way early, so no worries.

 

Riiight.

 

While I was at work I noticed my foot was hurting more than yesterday. I figured it was because yesterday when I was at the podiatrist he gave me a night brace to wear, and it was a little awkward. I'm not used to it yet, so it probably made me a little sore. No big deal. But late this morning while I was walking to another department, my foot popped. When I say "my foot" I really mean the plantar fascia which has been giving me grief for the last month, and when I say "popped" I mean I heard and felt something that I never want to hear or feel again. Within a minute I was breaking out in a cold sweat and feeling so sick to my stomach I thought for sure I was going to toss my cookies right in the hallway.

 

 

I called home to talk to my hubby, who offered to take me to the hospital. I decided against that and called my doctor, who said to not put any pressure on it and to come back in as soon as possible and see one of his partners since he was gone the rest of the day. My parents drove a walker over to me and I tried to get as much work done as I could before I had to leave for my appointment because I was pretty sure from how much pain I was in that my work week was done at this point.

 

Turns out I tore the damn plantar fascia in my left foot, which is apparently a rare and not so wonderful occurrence. Fortunately (?) when they do surgery on a PF they cut it to stretch it out, so basically my foot skipped ahead. Now I have to stay off of my foot for at least one week, maybe two, and I need to learn how to get around on crutches. I've never broken a bone so this will be a new experience for me. Oh, and I have to wear one of these:

 



The Boot.

 

Oh, I also left my Dex meter at work in my hobbled haste to get to the doctor, so my husband, who at this point had already taken off half the day for the plumbing, took off the rest of the day so he could go get that and then come home and take care of me, which is good because the walker I borrowed from my parents has already given me a blister. We're gonna borrow some crutches from a friend instead and hope I fare better on those.

 

The worst of this is that exercising is going to be even more difficult now. I was getting used to the exercise bike- really liked using it, in fact. Two weeks done and I really felt good about it. And now with the boot I have to find other ways to get my aerobics in. It's always something, isn't it?