Do you ever have one of those moments when you realize how absurd your life has become? I had one a few years ago as I was walking down an airport concourse and with every step I took, I could hear the pills in my carry-on rattling in their plastic bottles. It was an international flight, and I was not willing to risk being without my meds if the airline lost my bags. For a moment, I was self-conscious. It was a loud sound and made me feel like a walking pharmacy. But then I realized that was exactly what I was, and kept on walking.
I recently had a similar moment sitting on my couch. I had my computer and my phone, of course, but there was also a blood pressure monitor perched on the back of the couch, a glucose meter on the coffee table, an insulin pump clipped to my waistband, and the mechanisms of the last two literally attached to my body. In addition to the tech itself, there was also all of the supporting equipment strewn about: things to inject the pump and the meter transmitter, the replacement sets, the insulin, the glucose test strips, and three different kinds of tape to make sure the devices didn’t fall off before they should.
A little ridiculous, right? Especially for someone who has all invisible conditions, and who can only be classified as a luddite (when I can get away with it). If I could go back to the era of paper and pens, I totally would. But then, I hated biology when I was in high school, yet here I am, practicing basic bio-chem every day. The irony is not lost on me.
Adding to the ridiculous nature of it all is that I have to sleep with some of the tech – the devices, and the things that are attached to my body. Now, I don’t think I have ever been delicate, but sleeping with this stuff makes me feel like the princess and the pea. The pump is the size of a beeper, and if I roll over on it, in hurts enough to wake me up, and usually leaves a mark. I also have to have the receiver for the glucose meter (or my phone, which acts as a secondary receiver) within a few feet. It’s smaller, but still hard enough to wake me up. And if my blood sugar strays out of range or my pump malfunctions for a moment, both devices emit a godawful noise if not attended to in short order.
Now, I have tried to set them on my nightstand. Too far away to silence the alarms quickly and I inevitably end up knocking over some vessel that is filled with water. I have tried shoving them under my pillow, but somehow they always end up migrating. Apparently, I am a restless sleeper. I have tried to shove them under the pillows on the other side of the bed. Same thing.
The only solution I could come up with, which just adds to the absurdity of it all, is sleeping in a bathrobe and shoving the devices into the pockets. When I do that, they end up falling into the spaces like the one between my hip and my leg (I sleep in the fetal position). I don’t think you are supposed to sleep in bathrobes. They’re a little heavy and have a lot of extra fabric to get tangled in.
But adding a little more absurdity to the mountain that already exists is a small price to pay for a decent night’s sleep.