Being Resourceful.

I had plans last night for dinner with friends. (Actually, it's a "book club", but seeing as how I hardly ever get around to reading the books anymore, I consider it more of a "dinner date".) As I sat in my parked car outside of the restaurant, I did a quick blood test. The results weren't surprising, as I had been stuck at that number for several hours: 152.

Well, that's annoying.

In the past three hours, I had done four correction boluses - and they seemed to bounce right off of that 152 like it was a trampoline. I hadn't eaten since lunch, either, so I knew there weren't any tricky carbs at play. My infusion site looked fine (and still looked fine when I removed it at home, later that night). I had no answers.

It is times like this where a rage bolus starts to sound really, really attractive - much like ice cream after a bad day, or Robert Downey Jr. in Iron Man. (Am I the only one that thinks he's stupid-hot in that movie? Aaron thinks it's a weird crush to have. Maybe I just like the fact that his glowy chest thing looks a lot like a backlit insulin pump through his shirt. End digression.) I knew that bolusing from the pump wouldn't work, so I retrieved the back-up Humalog pen I always carry in my purse. I dialed up two units.

Then I thought, "Wait - where the hell am I going to inject this?" Like so many other parts of the country, mid-January is darn cold in Nebraska, and I was bundled up in several layers. Layers that weren't at all conducive to a tummy injection site.

My solution, as it has been many times before, is to use whatever body part is most easily accessible, which meant that last night I shunked that pen needle into the side of my calf.

These are not my legs.

My legs were the least-layered body part at the time, and due to upper body layers, going in from the top wasn't an option. Lift pant leg; insert needle. The funniest thing? I didn't even feel it!

I've also been known to use the top of my forearms. Hey - it's prime, untouched real estate, and I'm using however much of it I think I can get away with.