Life, Uninterrupted, with Kerri
Follow Kerri as she proves there's more to life than diabetes.

“So this part here is the old infusion set. I ripped that off before I got into the shower, remember? I tossed it in the garbage and the sound of the garbage bag rustling startled you?”

Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline as she listened intently, her big blue eyes focused on my face.

“Okay, so now that I’m all cleaned off and dry, I’m ready for the new site. That’s in this spaceship thing here. See the spaceship? I take the spaceship top off and unravel the tubing so I can attach it to the cartridge of insulin that I filled before, remember? Remember when I had the needle in the bottle of insulin?” 

She smiled for me, kicking her legs wildly.

“In. Suuuuuu. Liiiiin!” I drew the word out, clapping my hands and grinning back at her. “So this is all filled up with insulin, and I connect it to the tubing! Now ready for the beeping? The beep, beep, beeping?”

Her legs went nuts, and I danced in response. “Beeeeeeep!!”

“Ah, goo! Goo goo! Ha ha!” She chuckled at me and raised her chubby fists up.

“So we connect and press the buttons. Press, press and now we’re ready to prime. Priming is fun because that’s when the insulin goes whoooosh through the tubing and comes out at the needle end, which will go into Mommy in a few seconds, right? Okay, we’re all primed up. Now time to put the new infusion set in!”

I looked into the mirror and examined the sides of my hips, trying to find a good place to place the Inset. 

“Have to find a place that isn’t totally overused, you know? Mommy wants to find a place where it won’t sting and the insulin will go in nice-nice. You know what I mean, kiddo?”

“So this part here is the old infusion set. I ripped that off before I got into the shower, remember? I tossed it in the garbage and the sound of the garbage bag rustling startled you?”

Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline as she listened intently, her big blue eyes focused on my face.

“Okay, so now that I’m all cleaned off and dry, I’m ready for the new site. That’s in this spaceship thing here. See the spaceship? I take the spaceship top off and unravel the tubing so I can attach it to the cartridge of insulin that I filled before, remember? Remember when I had the needle in the bottle of insulin?” 

She smiled for me, kicking her legs wildly.

“In. Suuuuuu. Liiiiin!” I drew the word out, clapping my hands and grinning back at her. “So this is all filled up with insulin, and I connect it to the tubing! Now ready for the beeping? The beep, beep, beeping?”

Her legs went nuts, and I danced in response. “Beeeeeeep!!”

“Ah, goo! Goo goo! Ha ha!” She chuckled at me and raised her chubby fists up.

“So we connect and press the buttons. Press, press and now we’re ready to prime. Priming is fun because that’s when the insulin goes whoooosh through the tubing and comes out at the needle end, which will go into Mommy in a few seconds, right? Okay, we’re all primed up. Now time to put the new infusion set in!”

I looked into the mirror and examined the sides of my hips, trying to find a good place to place the Inset. 

“Have to find a place that isn’t totally overused, you know? Mommy wants to find a place where it won’t sting and the insulin will go in nice-nice. You know what I mean, kiddo?”

She looked at me, waiting for the countdown. I found a good spot on my left hip, and I wiped the site down with an alcohol swab.

“Ready? Three … two … one … blast off!!” 

The new infusion set clicked in with a solid shunk, and I pulled back the plastic housing to leave the cannula in place. 

“One last thing – have to fill the cannula and we’re good to go.” I pressed a few buttons. “All set! I’m all set, little girl.” 

My three and a half month old daughter laughed at me from her bouncy chair on the bathroom floor. Every few days, she watches me change out my insulin pump site. We make it a game, where we do the steps together. She likes the sound of the beeps from my pump, and her legs kick madly when I do the countdown. I explain every step as she watches, as she learns about what diabetes looks like in the life of her mommy. 

“Ready to play now? Want to play?” And I pick her up and hold her close, both of us blissfully unaware of the pump site between us.