Darwin and the Insulin Emergency
Rather than inject himself with insulin, Darwin wears an insulin pod. It's the upgraded version of an insulin pump, a small oval stuck to his side or his arm that titrates insulin. Each pod lasts about three days. Then it has to be replaced. They're expensive, though, and our insurance company doesn't enjoy paying for them. They refuse to let Darwin have more than a few weeks' supply, and they refuse to let him have a few extras, in case something happens.
As it did.
Darwin attached his last pod on a Thursday night. He has a standing order from a company called ADS. They send him more pods automatically every month. But his new pods hadn't arrived yet, and he was uneasy. So he called them Friday morning from work to see where they were. The ADS rep assured him that the pods were shipped and would arrive by Saturday. All right, then.
But at 4:00 he got an email from ADS. Oopsie! MESSA, our insurance company, wasn't authorizing the charge for the pods, so they hadn't been mailed yet.
No pods means no insulin for Darwin, and this will kill him in short order.
In a near panic, we called MESSA. The rep there said nothing was being held up on their end. Everything should be fine. This touched off more back-and-forth, and the clock was ticking down to 5:00, when everything closes down. ADS continued to maintain that MESSA wasn't authorizing payment, and MESSA continued to assert they were. Finally, one MESSA rep said, "Oh. Oops! Blue Cross [MESSA's underwriter] doesn't work with ADS anymore. That's the problem. MESSA authorized payment, but BC won't process it."
It was now 4:57. Darwin went ballistic. MESSA and BC should have alerted him to this change weeks ago so he could track down another pharmacy that carries the pods, and their negligence could mean his death. I'm not exaggerating, here. He snarled at the rep that they had better find a solution to this RIGHT NOW, and he wasn't hanging up until he had one, even if it took until midnight.
The rep, who was almost tearful at this point, got on the line with Blue Cross. Between them, they conjured up a list of pharmacies that they swore carried the pods. All Darwin needed to do was get a scrip from his doctor on Monday, drive over to the local pharmacy, and he would have pods.
This, of course, meant that Darwin would have to stay home from work and give up sick time because of their negligence. He was furious--and scared. His pod expired Monday evening. If there was a mistake anywhere along the line, he was in danger.
There was a mistake.
On Monday, Darwin called each of the pharmacies on the list--Walgreens, Rite Aid, CVS, Kroger. None of them carried the pods, despite the assurances of Blue Cross.
Now both frightened and furious, Darwin went back to MESSA and did more yelling. How dare they endanger his life this way? They were still searching for a solution when I got home from work. Darwin had been dealing with this ALL DAY.
Now =I= was starting to panic. The last time Darwin had gone without insulin for a day, he passed out and I had to call an ambulance for him. He spent three days in ICU.
Darwin had insulin in the refrigerator--he just had no way to inject it. Syringes and needles are a prescription item, you see, because the USA is horrified at the idea that drug addicts might buy them over the counter. (Notice this restriction never seems to stop addicts. It just hurts everyone else.) His doctor promised to send over a scrip for needles to tide Darwin over.
The scrip never arrived. We had another round of "No, we sent it" and "No, we never got it" bullshit, and then the doctor's office closed. No scrip, no pods, no needles.
No insulin.
Darwin's pod expired that night and deactivated itself. His insulin supply ended.
On Tuesday, he HAD to go to work. He ate very little and avoided all carbs--proteins only. His glucose monitor reported his sugar levels to an app that I can see on my own phone, so I was watching him all day. He was steady, around 200 (100 is optimal, 400 is considered dangerous).
The needle scrip still didn't show up, and we also spent enormous amounts of time on the phone, trying to find someone who carried the fucking pods. How hard could it be?
At last, the tearful MESSA rep discovered that Amazon carries them. Darwin quickly registered with their pharmacy, sent them his scrip, and waited for confirmation.
Meanwhile, his sugar started to climb. 250. 300. 375. Darwin exercised on our machines for a bit, and that brought it down a ways, but the moment he stopped, his sugar climbed again. 380. 400. Now the app just said HIGH, and gave steady alarms. I could smell the ketones on Darwin's breath, which meant he was in 700s or 800s or higher. He was now closing in on 24 hours without insulin.
He started to feel sick, and we were getting more desperate.
Amazon emailed Darwin. They had accepted his scrip and could ship the pods. They'd arrive in three days.
Three days. Let that sink in.
Then Darwin remembered he had some needles stashed somewhere in our storage closet. He'd kept them from the time he transitioned over to the pods. We dug around for them and couldn't find them. Then I remembered we had brought several boxes to our storage unit. Maybe they were over there.
Darwin's sugar alarms kept blaring, and he was feeling worse. I was afraid he was getting close to 1000.
At the storage unit, we shuffled boxes around and--ha!--found the right one. Darwin snatched the needles out and we sped back home, where he lined up a big shot of insulin, his first in more than a day.
His sugar didn't drop. It stayed way, way high, and Darwin reached the point where he couldn't stand up. I was thinking it was time for the hospital, but Darwin said they wouldn't do anything but observe him. I was fine with that, but Darwin still refused. I watched him sleep, checking every so often to make sure he wasn't actually unconscious.
At last--at LAST--his sugar dropped below 400. Then down to 300, and into the 200s. But Darwin was still weak and nauseated. High blood sugar hits you hard and fast, and recovery isn't instantaneous. I was pretty shaky myself.
He was too sick to go work the next day. He was sick on Thursday, too. Friday, he was still tired, but feeling well enough to work. I called to check on him several times, and by late afternoon, he said he felt normal.
Three days later, the pods arrived. With enormous relief, Darwin attached one to his arm and linked it to his glucose sensor.
We've since learned that Meijer carries the pods, and they're just up the road, but we're going to stick with Amazon. With Amazon, it won't matter where we've moved, and like it or not, Amazon has mastered shipping and subscriptions.
And now things are back to normal.
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As it did.
Darwin attached his last pod on a Thursday night. He has a standing order from a company called ADS. They send him more pods automatically every month. But his new pods hadn't arrived yet, and he was uneasy. So he called them Friday morning from work to see where they were. The ADS rep assured him that the pods were shipped and would arrive by Saturday. All right, then.
But at 4:00 he got an email from ADS. Oopsie! MESSA, our insurance company, wasn't authorizing the charge for the pods, so they hadn't been mailed yet.
No pods means no insulin for Darwin, and this will kill him in short order.
In a near panic, we called MESSA. The rep there said nothing was being held up on their end. Everything should be fine. This touched off more back-and-forth, and the clock was ticking down to 5:00, when everything closes down. ADS continued to maintain that MESSA wasn't authorizing payment, and MESSA continued to assert they were. Finally, one MESSA rep said, "Oh. Oops! Blue Cross [MESSA's underwriter] doesn't work with ADS anymore. That's the problem. MESSA authorized payment, but BC won't process it."
It was now 4:57. Darwin went ballistic. MESSA and BC should have alerted him to this change weeks ago so he could track down another pharmacy that carries the pods, and their negligence could mean his death. I'm not exaggerating, here. He snarled at the rep that they had better find a solution to this RIGHT NOW, and he wasn't hanging up until he had one, even if it took until midnight.
The rep, who was almost tearful at this point, got on the line with Blue Cross. Between them, they conjured up a list of pharmacies that they swore carried the pods. All Darwin needed to do was get a scrip from his doctor on Monday, drive over to the local pharmacy, and he would have pods.
This, of course, meant that Darwin would have to stay home from work and give up sick time because of their negligence. He was furious--and scared. His pod expired Monday evening. If there was a mistake anywhere along the line, he was in danger.
There was a mistake.
On Monday, Darwin called each of the pharmacies on the list--Walgreens, Rite Aid, CVS, Kroger. None of them carried the pods, despite the assurances of Blue Cross.
Now both frightened and furious, Darwin went back to MESSA and did more yelling. How dare they endanger his life this way? They were still searching for a solution when I got home from work. Darwin had been dealing with this ALL DAY.
Now =I= was starting to panic. The last time Darwin had gone without insulin for a day, he passed out and I had to call an ambulance for him. He spent three days in ICU.
Darwin had insulin in the refrigerator--he just had no way to inject it. Syringes and needles are a prescription item, you see, because the USA is horrified at the idea that drug addicts might buy them over the counter. (Notice this restriction never seems to stop addicts. It just hurts everyone else.) His doctor promised to send over a scrip for needles to tide Darwin over.
The scrip never arrived. We had another round of "No, we sent it" and "No, we never got it" bullshit, and then the doctor's office closed. No scrip, no pods, no needles.
No insulin.
Darwin's pod expired that night and deactivated itself. His insulin supply ended.
On Tuesday, he HAD to go to work. He ate very little and avoided all carbs--proteins only. His glucose monitor reported his sugar levels to an app that I can see on my own phone, so I was watching him all day. He was steady, around 200 (100 is optimal, 400 is considered dangerous).
The needle scrip still didn't show up, and we also spent enormous amounts of time on the phone, trying to find someone who carried the fucking pods. How hard could it be?
At last, the tearful MESSA rep discovered that Amazon carries them. Darwin quickly registered with their pharmacy, sent them his scrip, and waited for confirmation.
Meanwhile, his sugar started to climb. 250. 300. 375. Darwin exercised on our machines for a bit, and that brought it down a ways, but the moment he stopped, his sugar climbed again. 380. 400. Now the app just said HIGH, and gave steady alarms. I could smell the ketones on Darwin's breath, which meant he was in 700s or 800s or higher. He was now closing in on 24 hours without insulin.
He started to feel sick, and we were getting more desperate.
Amazon emailed Darwin. They had accepted his scrip and could ship the pods. They'd arrive in three days.
Three days. Let that sink in.
Then Darwin remembered he had some needles stashed somewhere in our storage closet. He'd kept them from the time he transitioned over to the pods. We dug around for them and couldn't find them. Then I remembered we had brought several boxes to our storage unit. Maybe they were over there.
Darwin's sugar alarms kept blaring, and he was feeling worse. I was afraid he was getting close to 1000.
At the storage unit, we shuffled boxes around and--ha!--found the right one. Darwin snatched the needles out and we sped back home, where he lined up a big shot of insulin, his first in more than a day.
His sugar didn't drop. It stayed way, way high, and Darwin reached the point where he couldn't stand up. I was thinking it was time for the hospital, but Darwin said they wouldn't do anything but observe him. I was fine with that, but Darwin still refused. I watched him sleep, checking every so often to make sure he wasn't actually unconscious.
At last--at LAST--his sugar dropped below 400. Then down to 300, and into the 200s. But Darwin was still weak and nauseated. High blood sugar hits you hard and fast, and recovery isn't instantaneous. I was pretty shaky myself.
He was too sick to go work the next day. He was sick on Thursday, too. Friday, he was still tired, but feeling well enough to work. I called to check on him several times, and by late afternoon, he said he felt normal.
Three days later, the pods arrived. With enormous relief, Darwin attached one to his arm and linked it to his glucose sensor.
We've since learned that Meijer carries the pods, and they're just up the road, but we're going to stick with Amazon. With Amazon, it won't matter where we've moved, and like it or not, Amazon has mastered shipping and subscriptions.
And now things are back to normal.
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