first blood. or my glucometer story.

Had to get me a glucometer quick as it's going to be my new boss for the rest of my diabetic life. On its uh, face shall lie my failure or success in controlling my blood sugar level on a daily basis. Getting one was the easiest part despite the array of available brands with prices ranging from relief-inducing to "huwhat?!-I'm-not-buying-a-new-kidney-for-chrissake!"-kind of reaction. Anyway, like I said, I didn't sweat the small stuff and went for the middle of the road - a decision seconded by the pharmacist who claimed her husband uses exactly the same model. So there it was, my spanking new glucometer. The gadget to take the place of my cell phone atop my things-I-can't-live-without list. Techie category that is (actually there are only four things on it). However, I realized later that it's not going to be a one-time spending for glucometer-ing as the strips do not come for free. Far from it. A strip costs, roughly, the same as a pack of cigarette. So there lies the catch. Oh well...


Since it's nearly impossible to use the glucometer with three hands, I have designated one sister as my personal Florence Nightingale. And so to the first attempt at drawing blood...


Rub alcohol on the finger of choice. Apply dry cotton on the same area to avoid mixing alcohol with blood. Prick and draw blood. Let a droplet of blood flow on the yellow line on the strip. Easy, right? But definitely not if your blood is as viscous as mine. 


So Florence, er my sister (who shall henceforth be called Florence on this site) had to squeeze the life out of my ring finger to produce a droplet until a scarlet orb appeared. Only if it would fall, run to the strip. Needless to say it won't, so Florence had to smudge it onto the yellow line. The unappreciative glucometer yielded ERR. Uh, for the undiabetic that means "error". So back to step one with my index finger this time. Guess what happened next? All in all, we ended up "doing" three fingers on the first day, two on the second and third day. And that's how many strips?!


A nutritionist friend of another sister said I should try drinking water with slices of okra (gumbo) soaked overnight. The gooey stuff produced in the water should do the trick. And guess what happened next? 


Now, even Florence sees the lowly okra in a whole new light for my blood, once a drop breaks out of the confines of my skin, has become a river swimming downstream in haste to meet the sea's embrace. Ahh...