Sunday February 5, 2012

I was sitting at the kitchen bar the other night while my dear hubby was in our front room exercising.   (Our front room is a big open space with nothing but bike trainers, a pilates machine and free weights.  I also use this space to do my exercise videos.)  Against one wall we have a 30 gallon aquarium and while hubby was exercising he was watching the fish.  Then I hear, “Oh man, I have seen it all.”  “What?” I exclaim from the other room.  When he doesn’t answer I venture in to see what his “excitement” is all about.

He points to the bottom corner of the aquarium and you will not BELIEVE (or maybe you will) what was there, lodged between a few rocks…a test strip.  Yes, ladies…a rogue test strip had somehow made its way into our aquarium, our aquarium with a top on it.  I am not sure how it got in there, but I can only assume that since I use the top of the aquarium as a resting place for my meter during exercise, one must have slipped out into a crack and then fallen in at some point. 

I can only imagine what the fish are thinking. 

This incident got me thinking about the trail diabetes leaves in its wake.  The trail of insulin bottles, infusion sets and tubing strewn across a bathroom counter on site change day.  The glucose tabs strewn across the bedside table and on the floor from a night time struggle with opening the bottle.  The trail of blood droplets on everything I own.  And of course, the never ending trail of test strips.  Test strips in every corner, every crack, every pocket and every inch of my life.  My husband even found a test strip in one of his jackets the other day.  It’s beyond me how these things manage to travel.  It’s like a game of hide and seek and I can’t help but laugh. 

My test strip trails are often a source of frustration for my hubby.  I can walk right by a test strip on the floor and not see it (yeah...let’s stick to that…I don’t see it) but my hubby is constantly picking them up and complaining, er…voicing his concerns, about the trail of test strips.  I am sure he has nightmares of drowning in a sea of test strips. But, I guess I feel like those test strips are a sign of how intertwined diabetes is in my life.  No matter where I turn, I can’t get away from the constant reminder that I have a broken pancreas. 

It’s funny though, those constant reminders aren’t so bad.  For example, sometimes seeing a test strip in an odd place reminds me I need to check my blood sugar.  I like to think of my trail of diabetes supplies as a sign that I am doing the best I can to manage my disease with what I have available to me.  Where is the weirdest place you have found a test strip or some other byproduct of your diabetes supplies?