The evening started easily enough. It was site change day.
Owen was in the shower doing his “get the set wet so it can come off without taking any skin with it” routine. I was in the living room doing the switch-out thing — changing his infusion set and cartridge.
He uses the Tru Steel, a 90-degree needle set. That means no cannula (goodbye kinked tubing nightmares), but it also means you have to change it every two days. I’m still getting used to the Tandem Mobi cartridge-filling process. (Let’s just say it’s not exactly “dexterity friendly”, but to be fair, none of the cartridge-style pumps are.) I do love the little container that holds the insulin vial steady. No more juggling the vial and cartridge while squinting at the barrel in the light, praying there aren’t air bubbles.
I primed the pump and waited for my now-clean 10-year-old to make his grand entrance.
I set the pump down on the coffee table so I could focus on the site insertion. We use Buzzy to minimize the pain of the site insertion, but it can be a handful to hold the bee and ice pack with one hand while inserting the site with the other. After doing it about 380 times (every two days for the last 2 ½ years), I have it down to a science.
Just as I finished taping up the site, the Sugar Pixel went off with its trademark air raid siren — our personal soundtrack for high or low blood sugars. It was my sugar this time. I silenced the alarm, grabbed a little juice, and headed back to the living room.
“Did you put your pump back on, Owen?”
“Yes, Dad.”
“Great!”
I was thrilled. Reconnecting the pump had been a struggle for him — it’s not the easiest thing to do when the site’s on your body — but he managed on his own. Progress!
When I walked into the room, he was gathering the remnants of the old cartridge, the new set wrappers, alcohol wipes, etc.
“I’ll throw these out, Dad.”
Wait. Owen, throwing something away without being asked? This night was going suspiciously well.
We wrapped up, watched a show, and later he asked for a snack. I grabbed his phone to bolus, but it said the pump was disconnected. Weird. After a few attempts, it reconnected. Snack delivered, teeth brushed, kid in bed.
Before I turned in for the night, I checked again. Pump disconnected… again. Odd, but I reconnected, gave a correction (he was running high), and finally went to bed.
Cue the Pixel’s “all hands on deck” siren a little while later: Owen’s blood sugar was over 350 with double arrows up.
Game time. I grabbed the night shift supplies (headlamp, ketone meter, BG meter) and went through the drill. Sure enough, he was over 350, but thankfully no ketones. Time to check the pump.
I lifted his shirt and went from groggy to wide-awake panic.
Where the #%$& is his pump?! (You know what #%$& means. I don’t need to write it.)
I tore the covers off the bed, flipped pillows, sheets — nothing. His blood sugars climbed over 400. My heart rate wasn’t far behind.
I gently-yet-not-gently shook him awake:
“Owen, where’s your pump?”
“On my body.”
“No, it’s not!”
“Oh… weird.” He rolled over and went right back to sleep.
I did the desperate parent thing: searching the same spots over and over, hoping it would magically appear. Nothing. Finally, I sat on the couch, trying to breathe, when it hit me — the pump connection issues… and the fact that Owen had thrown away his old set and cartridge.
I sprinted to the kitchen trash, ripped it open, and there, sitting squarely in the middle, was his pump.
Cue Seinfeld flashback: George, caught eating a discarded éclair. I wasn’t eating it out of the trash, but I was definitely rescuing it. And before you roll your eyes, yes, the trash had been changed while he was in the shower — so as far as I was concerned, I was in the clear.
I grabbed the pump, reconnected him, corrected, and set my alarm for an hour later. No sleep for me, but at the two-hour check he was finally trending down. By morning, blood sugars were back to normal.
Lessons Learned
- Praise your kids when they take ownership of their diabetes — but always, always verify.
- If the pump says “disconnected,” don’t just assume it’s Bluetooth being moody.
- Never underestimate the importance of a quick trash check.