Longtime readers may recall my early attempts to conquer the bagel with cream cheese. An update is long overdue. Here is Violet's Strategy for Fatty, Bad-for-Violet Treats:
1. Estimate carbs. A generous NYC bagel tends to be 65-70 grams.
2. Tell Nellie.
3. Select dual bolus.
4. Manually add 20% to the amount of insulin Nellie suggests. This is to compensate for the Fatty Treat's tendency to slow digestion, requiring more insulin over a longer period of time.
5. Take 2/3 of the total now. Square the remaining 1/3 over 3 hours.
6. Luxuriate in everything + cream cheese.
7. Brush teeth.
This method also handles egg sammiches well and is modestly effective for pizza.
Important: Your mileage may vary and probably will. Experiment with care.
P.S. Absolute Bagels, 107th and Broadway, are the bomb. Bonus: They have a bulletin board covered with photos of happy, bagel-fed babies.
Pumplandia* (PUMP-LAN-dee-uh): n. 1. A fantastical yet real world in which the splendor of technology offers hope, improved health, and enhanced freedom to people with diabetes who require insulin. 2. A purplish place where ideas are exchanged in the interest of personal growth. *Name originated by Tippytoes, January 2005
November 9, 2007
November 7, 2007
I’m Too Sexy for My Pump, part III
What? Still?!
It’s true. Even 2.7 years after first exploring this topic here and here. (Apparently I am growing sexier as I age, huzzah. Or at least holding steady.)
I know that I remain too sexy for my pump because over the course of 2007, I’ve been rejected not once but twice by potential dates who were squicked by Nellie.
A provocative statement, I know. Keep reading, gentle blog friends. I shall explain all.
It seems worthwhile to note, for purposes of anthropological interest, that both NRDs (Nellie-Rejecting Dorks) were absurdly good-looking. And I do mean absurdly. My admittedly limited experience with such individuals is that, as if in karmic recompense for their Clooneyesque appearance, they are developmentally delayed in the category of general human decency. These two fellows proved to be no exception.
I didn’t meet either NRD in person. I’ve spent much of the year in that special purgatory known as the Land of Online Dating, where I encountered NRDs One and Two. In each case Nellie came up during the correspondence stage.
Why, you ask, did Nellie come up during the correspondence stage? After all, I could’ve kept her existence concealed until my suitors were so entirely captivated by my sundry violetine charms that not even bionic breasts would have turned them away. (Eww. Hope no one from Medtronic R&D is reading this post.)
Well, Nellie became an issue during correspondence because I, um, used her as bait. This is a practice I’ve implemented when a fellow makes multiple statements that ping on my Superficiality Radar. The idea is that a great deal of time and energy can be saved by screening out NRDs before the dating process begins. It’s true that such screening has the potential to eliminate someone who would not, in fact, turn out to be NRDy if he met me in person (and was therefore captivated by my sundry violetine charms) before learning about the pump. But I wouldn’t want to date such a person, now would I?
No, no I would not.
It works like this. After three or four pings on the radar, I make casual mention of having diabetes and using a pump. If questions ensue, I send a photo—not of me, but of a kindly anonymous soul who is wearing a cousin of Nellie’s. The infusion set is visible in the photo. I write a brief but honest passage about the magnificence of the pump.
Then I wait.
NRD One very abruptly had to walk his dog—this exchange took place during an online chat—and promised to be in touch straight away the next day. Never heard from him again.
NRD Two sent an email thanking me for my honesty and explaining that he would need to think about whether he wanted to continue our conversation. Never heard from him again.
Wow. Imagine a pumpless (or a more reserved, ahem) Violet wasting her precious time and energy on either of these cretins. I might’ve gone out with them. I might even have unknowingly kissed one of them. Ewww! NRD cooties!
Who knew that Nellie would not only preserve my health and happiness but also function as an anti-NRD screening device? Not I. Maybe I should send Medtronic a testimonial for their website…
It’s true. Even 2.7 years after first exploring this topic here and here. (Apparently I am growing sexier as I age, huzzah. Or at least holding steady.)
I know that I remain too sexy for my pump because over the course of 2007, I’ve been rejected not once but twice by potential dates who were squicked by Nellie.
A provocative statement, I know. Keep reading, gentle blog friends. I shall explain all.
It seems worthwhile to note, for purposes of anthropological interest, that both NRDs (Nellie-Rejecting Dorks) were absurdly good-looking. And I do mean absurdly. My admittedly limited experience with such individuals is that, as if in karmic recompense for their Clooneyesque appearance, they are developmentally delayed in the category of general human decency. These two fellows proved to be no exception.
I didn’t meet either NRD in person. I’ve spent much of the year in that special purgatory known as the Land of Online Dating, where I encountered NRDs One and Two. In each case Nellie came up during the correspondence stage.
Why, you ask, did Nellie come up during the correspondence stage? After all, I could’ve kept her existence concealed until my suitors were so entirely captivated by my sundry violetine charms that not even bionic breasts would have turned them away. (Eww. Hope no one from Medtronic R&D is reading this post.)
Well, Nellie became an issue during correspondence because I, um, used her as bait. This is a practice I’ve implemented when a fellow makes multiple statements that ping on my Superficiality Radar. The idea is that a great deal of time and energy can be saved by screening out NRDs before the dating process begins. It’s true that such screening has the potential to eliminate someone who would not, in fact, turn out to be NRDy if he met me in person (and was therefore captivated by my sundry violetine charms) before learning about the pump. But I wouldn’t want to date such a person, now would I?
No, no I would not.
It works like this. After three or four pings on the radar, I make casual mention of having diabetes and using a pump. If questions ensue, I send a photo—not of me, but of a kindly anonymous soul who is wearing a cousin of Nellie’s. The infusion set is visible in the photo. I write a brief but honest passage about the magnificence of the pump.
Then I wait.
NRD One very abruptly had to walk his dog—this exchange took place during an online chat—and promised to be in touch straight away the next day. Never heard from him again.
NRD Two sent an email thanking me for my honesty and explaining that he would need to think about whether he wanted to continue our conversation. Never heard from him again.
Wow. Imagine a pumpless (or a more reserved, ahem) Violet wasting her precious time and energy on either of these cretins. I might’ve gone out with them. I might even have unknowingly kissed one of them. Ewww! NRD cooties!
Who knew that Nellie would not only preserve my health and happiness but also function as an anti-NRD screening device? Not I. Maybe I should send Medtronic a testimonial for their website…
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