After yet another diabetes related bed sheet incident I am now starting to think that diabetes and sheets are simply incompatible bedfellows. This time there was no visible problem, no massacre-like blood stains or mysterious slime.Â Oh no, this time it was the smell. Thankfully not the smell of my toes rotting off or my kidneys frying, but stil notÂ a fragrance I like to have around the house.
Iâ€™m sitting on my bed (which Iâ€™d only changed the day before) getting ready to change my infusion set. I have no concerns about blood spots getting on the sheets because the set Iâ€™m removing is on the top of my thigh. If I remove a set from my buttocks while sitting on the cream duvet, I can almost guarantee itâ€™ll bleed and leave tiny red marks on the duvet. But my mind is clear of such concerns today.
I fill the reservoir with insulin and squirt a bit back into the bottle to remove some air bubbles. Then I draw a bit more insulin into the reservoir to make sure itâ€™s full. Then I get a bit carried away and pull the plunger completely out of reservoir, emptying 300 units of insulin all over me and the bed in the process.
I donâ€™t tend to notice the smell of insulin any more. Apparently 300 units is enough to cure my olfactory fatigue. I can confirm that it stinks. I finish the set change and naively mop up the insulin thinking thatâ€™ll sort the problem. Afterall, despite probably being enough to kill 4 ShootUp readers should we split it between us and inject it all at once, 300 units isnâ€™t really very much. It’s just a few spoonfuls.Â Â
Having washed my hands, I return to the cleaned up bedroom. The smell is overpowering and showing no sign of abating. I strip the bed and resign myself to having to wash the sheets. I also change my clothes. I carry on with my day, but thereâ€™s a lingering smell wherever I go. Even with clean clothes on, I still stink. I take a shower. I start planning what we can have for dinner thatâ€™ll overpower the insulin smell â€“ curry and garlic perhaps?
The husband comes in. By now the house is full of wet washing because the British summer monsoon is raging outside. But that doesnâ€™t really matter, because thereâ€™s no hope of smelling the washing over the overwhelming stench of insulin. From the way the husband recoiled as he crossed the front doorstep, I guess the smell is still pretty powerful. We open all the windows and go to the pub.
Thankfully the smell seems to have gone now, but Iâ€™ve learned my lesson. From now on all insulin will be stored in a safe box in the garden shed and only used when wearing full safety gear.