Losing Patience with Customer Support

The other day, I nearly LOST IT on the phone with an Insulet representative.

I’m not proud of it, but I also was not sure why this particular phone call was taking so long.

I was calling in regards to a pod failure – something I’ve had to call and report many times before, so I’ve become very familiar with how the usual phone call goes:

Me: Hi, I’m calling to report a pod failure.

Insulet Representative: Okay, could I have your first and last name, date of birth, and shipping address?

*I provide the information.*

Insulet Rep.: Thank you for verifying your information. Could you please tell me about the pod failure incident?

*I explain what happened with the pod failure. The rep will ask me a series of follow-up questions, such as where was I wearing the pod? How long was I wearing it before the failure? Did I notice anything unusual about the pod activation? Did I need to seek medical assistance for the pod failure? Typically, this is the list of questions I’m asked, and then I finish my call with the rep.*

Insulet Rep.: We’ll be sending you a replacement pod. We will send it via standard shipping, meaning it will arrive in 7-10 business days. Is that okay with you?

Me: Yes, thank you.

*And then after exchanging pleasantries, the call is over. Standard running time on the phone is about 6-7 minutes. No big deal at all.*

So imagine my surprise, and growing ire, when a phone call that should’ve only lasted a few minutes stretched just beyond 20 minutes.

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I’m sure that all T1Ds can commiserate with me on this one…how many hours, and how much patience, have you lost due to customer support?

I still don’t really know why it lasted so long. The agent I spoke with was asking me WAYYYY to many follow-up questions regarding the pod failure, and what made it especially irritating was that I’d already explained every single detail surrounding the whole incident. It was like she was questioning my reporting abilities. Either that or she was really slow with taking notes, and maybe I was talking too fast for her? Who knows. All I knew was that I was calling in the middle of my workday, and I had to get this wrapped up ASAP so I could turn my full attention back to my work.

That said, it was difficult to stay patient, and I probably slipped up toward the end of the call. Actually, I totally slipped up, because my answers to her questions became very curt in my attempt to expedite the call…which didn’t work, by the way.

I felt a tinge of guilt for my brusqueness. After all, I used to be a customer service representative who spoke with her fair share of irate customers. I knew it would be appreciated if I at least said a sincere thank you before hanging up. So I did, and even though I wasn’t exactly proud of myself for losing my cool, I was glad that I could turn my attitude around in the end.

It’s kind of a metaphor for how I’m trying to handle my diabetes these days…allow myself to feel how I want to feel, but then go about handling whatever situation is in my way using a level head. Because that’s how to make things happen, IMHO.

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What the…BEEP!

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

A long, unfaltering, high-pitched beep was emitting from something in the pharmacy. I saw heads turn in the vicinity as fellow customers, as well as myself, tried to identify the source of the noise.

I gulped. Could it be coming from me? Did my OmniPod fail right then and there as I was picking up my prescription?

WHAT THE...BEEP!
I wish an image could accurately portray just how annoying the beeping sound can be.

I anxiously dug through my backpack, my fingers searching for my PDM, until they met it. I pulled it out and prayed that all was well, that my pod was working as it should be.

A quick press of a button, and…I confirmed that my PDM and pod were, indeed, working properly. Simultaneously relieved yet still bemused by the noise, I put my PDM away while I scanned the area around me, determined to find out what was making a sound so similar to my OmniPod.

What was the culprit? Well, you know those little plastic boxes that drugstores encase things like razor blades in, to prevent theft? That was the thing emitting a blaring beep, in this situation. And like I’d initially assumed, it was coming from me: I was holding one of those boxes in my hand (because I was about to purchase razor blade replacement cartridges), and I’d unintentionally obscured the sensor that triggers the alarm to go off.

Whoops.

While it was nice to know that my insulin pump hadn’t failed on me, it was still somewhat embarrassing to discover that I was the cause of the ruckus, anyways.

Lesson learned: Keep those protective plastic cases in plain sight so I won’t have to misidentify what the beep is coming from.

Ye Olde…Insulin Pump?

Sometimes, you just gotta have fun with diabetes.

Which is why I didn’t think twice before writing “ye olde insulin pump” on my pod before attending a renaissance faire last week.

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Me, wearing a flower crown and showing off my ye olde insulin pump…just living my best life.

Yep, there I am, with my pod in full view, my Myabetic backpack slung on my shoulders, and turkey leg in hand. This is pretty much me in my full glory.

I could’ve let my diabetes get in the way of me enjoying the faire, especially because it’s been somewhat unpredictable lately, but I didn’t.

I ate what I wanted, drank some raspberry wine (much tastier than mead, IMHO), and socialized with friends.

I anticipated some people to notice or comment on my pod, which I actually wouldn’t have minded because maybe it would’ve been from another T1D or someone who is familiar with insulin pumps. But all day long, the only remark came from someone within my group, and we all had a chuckle over it…and that was it.

Which is perfectly fine by me, because even though my ye olde insulin pump and I weren’t trying to hide diabetes at the renaissance faire, it did give me a mental vacation from it for part of the day.

Huzzah to that, indeed.

A Tough Week

It’s like you’re always stuck in second geeeear

When it hasn’t been your day, your week, your month, or even your yeeeeear!

*Ahem* Oh! Pardon me, I was just singing that line from the Friends (yes, the TV show, of course) opening credits theme song. It describes how I’ve been feeling lately – maybe not for a full year, but most certainly this week.

It all started with high blood sugars. Not just any kind of high blood sugars, but the inexplicable sort of numbers that were happening for no apparent reason. Running temp basals, bolusing, stacking, drinking tons of water, testing for ketones, increasing activity levels, and reducing food intake were all steps that I took in order to combat the highs. But still, it seemed like every time I put food into my mouth, my blood sugar would jump up way too high, even though I was aggressively administering insulin to cover it. I was taking almost double what I should’ve needed to take, with less than stellar results.

I was dumbfounded. And angry. And incredibly stressed over it.

Ah, stress…the possible culprit?

I’m still not sure, but it seems to be the likeliest possibility. I’ve been running around like a mad woman since I returned to Massachusetts for a two-week visit. I’ve been busy planning my cousin’s bridal shower, meeting up with family and friends, going into work at the office Monday-Friday, contending with other health issues (scratched corneas…don’t ask), and calling various companies for health-insurance-related issues. I’ve had little time for myself, so it really isn’t a wonder that stress could be to blame for my hyperglycemic patterns.

That, and my tendency to forget that haste makes waste. Let me present to you the following photo:

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Yep, that’s little old me at my work cubicle, pointing out my barely-hanging-on pod. In my hurry to get to work and start my day, I had removed my tote bag from its spot on my shoulder in a rush. The force from the movement peeled half of my pod up and off my arm, leaving the cannula (mercifully) still stuck under my skin. I was furious at myself because the pod was less than a day old, and I couldn’t bear the idea of tossing it with more than 100 units of precious insulin left inside it. So I did what I could to cobble it back onto the site on my arm with copious amounts of medical tape, cursing myself for being so careless and exacerbating my stress levels.

There’s a lot more I could say and explain when it comes to the level of tough this week has been, but I think it’s time to move on. Life with diabetes means good weeks and bad weeks. The good weeks are to be celebrated, whereas the bad weeks ought to be acknowledged for how physically and emotionally challenging they are, but also for the lessons to be learned from them.

With that said…

It’s been a tough week, but a new one’s right around the corner and I’m determined to make it a good one.

That “Thing” on my Arm

“Yo, I don’t mean to be rude, but what’s that thing on your arm? Looks pretty cool.”

I turned around to face the stranger who was looking at me and asking me this question. It was well after midnight and we were on the rooftop of a fairly crowded bar. It was a balmy, summery night and I was enjoying the atmosphere with my boyfriend and my best friend. I’d had a few drinks over the course of the night, but judging by the state of everyone else on the rooftop, I was probably more sober than most of them.

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THIS is the sticker I should’ve been wearing that night…keeps things much more simple.

I could’ve answered his question in a scolding manner; it wasn’t a “thing”, it was a device that keeps me alive.

I could’ve totally dismissed him and told him to mind his own beeswax, because really, it is sort of rude to point out something on another person’s body.

I could’ve lied and told him it was something that it’s not to get him to stop bothering me.

I could’ve launched into an educational breakdown of what an insulin pump is and why my OmniPod looks the way it does.

I could’ve done any number of things, but instead I decided to say, “Oh, this is my insulin pump. I’ve got it decorated right now with a picture of a lighthouse because I like adding some style to it.” I smiled at him as a way of reassuring him that I really didn’t care that he was asking me, because I didn’t.

My straightforward answer seemed to please this random man. He told me again that he thought it was cool, and then we chatted a bit about where the lighthouse is and discovered we both have a connection to Massachusetts. Within a few brief moments, the conversation was over as we went our separate ways.

It was a perfectly harmless interaction that could’ve went a number of different ways, but to me, it’s all about context. This guy was just asking out of curiosity, and I truly don’t think he was trying to be rude about it. So I answered his question succinctly but good-naturedly, because I felt that was the only way to go about it in this busy party environment. Plus, let’s be real here…had I delved into a discussion about diabetes and devices, this drunk man probably wouldn’t have digested a single detail of my description. (Ahh, I love alliteration.) And another important point? He was damn right, my pump did look cool because of the lighthouse sticker!

But man, how much simpler it’d’ve been if I’d just been wearing my “THIS IS MY INSULIN PUMP” sticker on my pod that night.

I Dos and Don’ts: My Tips for Attending a Wedding with T1D

I can always count on diabetes to make life’s most joyous occasions just a bit more challenging…so I shouldn’t have been surprised when my diabetes threw several curve balls at me on my cousin’s wedding weekend.

There was the moment at the rehearsal dinner when I stood up to get something and hit my leg against a chair, literally knocking my pod off my thigh. (But I didn’t even realize it for another 20 minutes.)

There was the moment later that night, after the rehearsal dinner, that I discovered my blood sugar was high and that my mealtime dinner bolus probably was never delivered.

There was the moment the next morning that I realized my breakfast options were limited to a giant, carb-y bagel or a massive, sugary blueberry muffin.

There was the moment when I was with the bridal party – applying makeup, styling hair, and trying to calm the bride down – that it hit me that I had no idea what to do with my backpack (a.k.a., my diabetes bag) during the ceremony, as I had to be standing up there with the other bridesmaids during the vows.

There was the moment I psyched myself out big time by wondering what the hell would happen if I passed out in the middle of the ceremony in front of all of the esteemed guests.

There was the moment I went a little too overboard on drinking Prosecco at the reception…and a few more cocktails at the after party.

There was the moment I woke up the next day with a high blood sugar and hangover from hell.

Needless to say, there were quite a few diabetes “moments” over the course of an otherwise beautiful weekend. As a result of them, I’ve decided to document some wedding dos and don’ts for myself, as this won’t be the first time this year that I’m a bridesmaid in someone’s wedding. Here’s my unofficial roundup.

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Showing off my decked-out pod at the wedding reception.

Do have plenty of back-up supplies. I got lucky this time around because my parents were a phone call and short car ride away from me when my pod fell off. I should’ve been carrying insulin and a spare pod on me, but at least it was within my mother’s reach at the hotel room.

Don’t sweat the small stuff. Things happen, and I’ve got to learn to accept them more quickly so I can better adapt to a situation. It took me awhile to forgive myself for the pod snafu at the rehearsal dinner, and if I hadn’t snapped out of it, then it could’ve ruined the night for me.

Do try to plan meals when possible. I knew that I should avoid a high-carb breakfast on such a busy morning, but I can’t resist a blueberry muffin, especially when it’s one of two breakfast options I had. I wish I’d thought to bring food that had accurate carb counts on it so I could’ve had more predictable blood sugars throughout the day, but I did come back down from the sugar-induced high relatively promptly.

Don’t forget that family and friends are willing to help. My “problem” with my backpack was solved by handing it off to my boyfriend about 30 minutes before the ceremony started. I didn’t miss any photo opps with the bride and bridesmaid during the hand off and I felt better knowing it was in good care.

Do remember that time flies. I had to keep myself in context; after all, I was standing up in front of the guests for less than 30 minutes. I knew there was relatively little insulin in my system and that I was starting to level out somewhere in the 100s by the time the ceremony started. The odds of me passing out were slim, and I needed to give myself that reality check.

Don’t forget to drink plenty of water. Duh, that’s drinking rule #1! I’m embarrassed to admit that I maybe had two glasses of water during the entire reception and after party. It’s not like there wasn’t water available, so I don’t know what I was thinking. But I do know that I was incredibly lucky to hold onto stable blood sugars well into the night, despite my lack of hydration.

Do have a plan for hangovers. Sometimes, they happen, and they’ve got to be dealt with swiftly. After some consultation with my mother, I set a temp basal to fight against my high blood sugar and downed glass after glass of water. By early afternoon, I was feeling much better. And even though I had a bellyache, I didn’t yak, so I suppose that’s a silver lining.

And one extra “do”…do have fun with diabetes devices! I decked out my pod in a Pump Peelz sticker that had an image of the lighthouse we were near on it. Sure, it wasn’t visible to anyone but me (and a few people I couldn’t resist showing), but it still made me feel extra special and coordinated with the wedding venue. Sometimes, its the little things in life.

So besides taking several valuable dos and don’ts away with me from this weekend, I’m also walking away with a wonderful first experience as a bridesmaid to a cousin who’s always felt more like a sister to me. When it comes down to it, my irritation with diabetes doesn’t matter – it’s the love and celebrations I felt all weekend long that do matter.

A Device-Free Shower

For the first time in *literally* years, I took a device-free shower the other day.

AND IT WAS AMAZING.

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Ta-ta for now, little friends.

Let me clarify that by device-free, I mean that I wasn’t wearing a pump or a CGM on my body. Both were due to be changed that evening, so with what can only be described as unadulterated glee, I peeled my Dexcom followed by my pod off my body before practically leaping into the shower.

It probably sounds funny, and perhaps a little dramatic or flat-out fucking weird, but those 15 minutes without a single medical device stuck to me were glorious. I wasn’t worried about accidentally knocking something off. I was free to scrub off the adhesive that had kept the devices stuck to my skin, and I felt oddly empowered – carefree, even – that I could enjoy one of the most mundane daily routines without needing to worry about my diabetes. Sure, for the duration of my shower, I wasn’t receiving my basal rate of insulin, but I really didn’t care because 1) I took a small bolus to compensate for it before I removed my pod and 2) I was more focused on doing this one little thing for myself to reclaim my body from diabetes devices, even if it was for a short window of time.

So you might argue that I had my first truly nekkid shower for the first time in forever. And it made me happy. A brief reprieve from diabetes is always welcome, and I’ll take it in whatever silly form I can get it in.