Have you ever had to recreate your pump’s entire basal life from scratch? Mine flashed before my very eyes this weekend.

As usual, I waited until the last possible second to get ready to go out to dinner with my in-laws on Saturday evening. We had twenty-five minutes to fit in three quarters of an hour of stuff. Not to worry. Been there before.

But this night was different. Just as I was about to jump into the shower, I suspended the old Paradigm and noticed the LOW BATTERY warning. NancyTW has taught me not to procrastinate so much, and to deal with things (the mail, returning phone calls, tests under 30!!) as soon as they come up. I used to be much worse, and developed a habit of leaving non-life-sustaining issues until tomorrow. Life-sustaining ones only got pushed back to the afternoon. But I am better now.

Sometimes “better” still gets me in trouble.

I grabbed a nickel and unscrewed the battery cap on my pump. After tossing the old battery, I took the brand new one that I keep in my meter kit, slipped it into the housing, and snugged the cap back into place. Then the fun started.

After some hesitation and beeping, my little blue amigo told me in no uncertain terms that there had been a FAILED BATT TEST, that delivery had been stopped, and that it really wanted me to do something like “replace battery now,” or words to that effect. I don’t really remember. There are, after all, a thousand ways to say, “Your screwed, pal.”

“Replace batt . . . yeah, right. I just did,” I muttered.

With about ten minutes to go before we had to leave, and me still looking like I just did a brake job, I needed this little setback like I needed poison ivy. My brand new battery wasn’t brand new enough, apparently. No problem. I can replace battery now. I can do that. Sure. I’ll just replace battery now.

You already know what’s coming, don’t you?

That’s right. There were no more AAA batteries in the house. You’d think that a guy running a diabetes junk drawer might be able to put his hands on a battery, wouldn’t you? Wrong. For the first time in nine years, I was watching my MiniMed starve. It was spewing out what seemed like louder and more continuous beeping gasps for energy than ever before, and all I could do was watch. My pump was fading into its own version of hypoglycemia. I thought about giving it juice.

So I fished through the trash for the old battery, knowing that the good folks at Medtronic had very smartly programmed their LOW BATTERY indicator to begin warning users approximately one full hockey season before a battery actually runs completely out of power. But as I fished I knew full well that those same nice @&%#^$&!* folks had also programmed my little insulin buddy to accept nothing but a fresh, new, fully charged battery. The old battery would be of absolutely no use, and I might as well have jettisoned it into outer space, for all the good it was to me.

So, of course, I popped it back into place and tightened down the hatch, knowing exactly what was about to happen.

FAILED BATT TEST.

“$hite!,” as my Irish ancestors must have said when their insulin pumps went down. More beeps and buzzers and bells and cries for help. And it was time to leave.

We drove to my in-laws, in whose home you can’t swing a dead cat without hitting a TV remote control. They must have fifty of them (remotes, not dead felines.) Surely I would find a supply of batteries from which I could scavenge one to tide me over. That pump didn’t shut up for the whole ride. I yelled at it, “For something that’s tired, weak, and has no energy, you make an awful lot of noise!”

What I most worried about was the possible loss of all my basal rates, which, after years of tweaks and adjustments, now add up to ten. Plus there was the extra pattern buried in there that I haven’t said hello to in a while. I have all this info on file at home, but we were going out for the evening, and any reconstruction would have had to wait until we returned late into the night if all that data was lost.

Fortunately, there was no further disaster on Saturday night. I got myself a new battery at my in-laws’ home for wayward remotes, and none of my precious basals had been disturbed. Based on previous experiences, I probably could have gone through the whole night and into Sunday with the LOW BATT warning and done just fine. But no, I had to deal with the issue promptly. Anyway, seven of us all went out and enjoyed wonderful meals that included swordfish, fillet mignon, and a freshwater grouper fish called scamp, which I was not familiar with.

I guess it’s fitting that I start Thanksgiving week as a real Energizer Turkey.  That's me, by the way, up there in the picture, crossing the road on my way over to my in-laws'. 

Does anyone know if all basal info is lost when a 512 is completely run down and in a totally powerless state? 

Leave a message because I’ll be out buying batteries.