Thursday, November 15, 2012

Sensing a Problem
Late last night the sensor which monitors T's blood sugar stopped working and  we had to figure out how to install the one spare that Antonio gave us into T's midsection by launching the plastic mini rocket with a tiny needle into her using a little plastic pod that looks like what Woody Allen entered in that movie Sleeper. This involved hysterical screaming between the three of us because we were all beyond exhausted and how-to videos from Medtronic on youtube in Hebrew, German, and French. None of those are languages we speak, btw.


 The little space pod looking sensor worked through the night, but I got a call from T saying that it stopped working after school and I had to dial up Antonio. He was not thrilled to hear from me since earlier that afternoon at the hospital of Lucca he was telling me how if only T slept on the same floor as us we could hear the tiny little meep that the sensor alarm makes, which is absolutely not true. I looked him in the eyes and started saying let's call a thing a thing people; it's a design flaw. His goatee got a bit ruffled over that. It was supposed to be a ten minute rendezvous but it turned out to be standing in heels for more than an hour and a half. Then we dropped T off at home and F took me to a skin doctor appointment in Pietrasanta. I downloaded the wrong map off the
Internet and we ended up taking hair pin turns up a huge, twisty hill in the pitch black night in the middle of nowhere. I got a very nice face mask out of that once we called the doctor and got the right directions, but you can imagine that when T came plodding down the stairs just as we were getting ready to go to sleep none of us were in too great of a mood.


Thank goodness the Iseismic app that you can get for free on your ipod and is meant to warn people of earthquakes works like a charm when Ru Paul (her insulin pump) vibrates. That sounds wrong, excuse me. Anyway, it will be a month before the new insulin pump arrives and we can say Shontay you stay to the new pump and Sashay away to Ru Paul. That was hilarious if you watch Ru Paul's Drag Race, the television drag queen contest, but I get the feeling none of you do.



T goes to sleep to reruns of that program -- and that explains a lot about her sense of humor. Maybe we should name her sensor Andy Cohen after the host of Bravo since it keeps making polite announcements.




Over the phone, Antonio walked T through how to get her sensor and pump to start communicating better and then she announced that if she didn't return to school all of the boys in her class would be mad at her because they need to have enough numbers for a pallamano/ultimate handball soccer contest with another class. I have to go to work in half an hour and I am still wearing pajamas and stealing Christina Aguilera songs off youtube while boililng beets to make into carmine free lip stain.

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