The Edgpark Order that Won't Die

We placed our initial Edgepark order in March. The details of that ordeal are here, if you'd like to read the beginning of this story.

I returned two of the three items in that shipment on April 11th, using the return label sent to me by Edgepark, because they were not items my daughter uses, nor were they the items prescribed.

I subsequently received a bill for the Verio Test strips I'd returned. When I called, the representative said to disregard the bill. Edgepark was in the process of 'billing the return' with our insurance.

Ignore it I did, along with a couple of subsequent, identical bills I received in quick succession.

Mid-summer, after another bill, I called and was told again to disregard it.

Fast forward to the beginning of this month. I placed an order for a new Dexcom G6 system.

I then received an email telling me I had an outstanding bill. I called and was told once again to disregard it.

Two weeks later, I followed up, since there'd been no word on the G6. They'd just processed the order with the doctor's prescription, I was told, and it would be shipping from the Ohio warehouse within 24 hours. It would be at my house by Friday via FedEx. It was very specific information.

I then received another bill, for a higher amount than the previous ones, and a subsequent email warning me that no further orders would ship until I had resolved my delinquent account with the Edgepark billing department.

So I called. Yes, I was told, they had 'billed the return' and refunded my account $63.60 for the test strips. I acknowledged that as a good start, but then noted that I had paid them $288, and that they were now sending me bills for over $400. It was an unproductive conversation which ended in the representative telling me she was sending March's whole order and subsequent billing back for a 'full review.'

So, did that mean my upcoming order would be cleared to ship? "Oh- yes - that wouldn't have been on hold anyway."

Today, still no word on the Dexcom, so I went onto the patient portal to check the status. There were 'urgent alerts' posted warning me that no further orders could be processed until I paid my outstanding bill of what was now two hundred-something dollars.

An hour phone call, piles of explanation-of-benefits and bills reviewed, and lots of math later I agreed with the billing representative that the current number was correct. In (very) short, the original billing on the one item I did keep (Dexcom G4 sensors) was also incorrect, not in my favor, and that error was reflected on a subsequent explanation of benefits in July. After the whole day's bills were sent back for review, my account was credited with the rest of the Verio money Edgepark owed me, in order to pay for part of the cost of the Dexcom sensors. I still owed the balance for those supplies.

I paid the bill then and there on the phone.

My daughter's Dexcom G6, the third person in so many weeks told me, is on its way. She's, once again, really looking forward to getting it. It seems highly unlikely to me that there isn't at least one more phone call involved in this. And then, of course, the next set of bills...

Stay tuned.

And if you have a choice to get supplies from someone other than Edgepark, do.

Ye Olde Pharmacy Days

Fifteen years ago, when my daughter was first diagnosed with diabetes, we were given a handful of paper prescriptions. I drove to the local pharmacy near our house which, conveniently, doubled as a Hallmark store. I handed over the prescriptions and went home with two kinds of insulin, including one which had been diluted to make her baby-sized doses possible. I also went home with test strips, lancets, syringes and glucagon. At regular intervals I returned to the pharmacy, paid a reasonable copay, and received more supplies. Sometimes I was also able to pick up a birthday card or a baby gift while I was there.

It sounds like a fairy tale now. The only thing I still obtain at a brick-and-mortar pharmacy is insulin, and I fear those days are numbered.

I fail to understand how the current system could possibly be more cost-effective...or better in any other way for that matter.

The layers of bureaucracy which have been added in the interests of keeping costs down can't really be doing so, can they?

Our endocrinology office now has staff members who answer the office's 'prescription hotline,' speaking, emailing and faxing all day with patients, pharmacies and insurers.

Our health insurer now pays a third party case management company to manage our prescription and durable medical equipment (pump, dexcom, etc.) supply needs. That company then contacts the people at supply distribution companies who then process our order. Both the prescription case management company and the supply shipping company call, email and snail mail us, our insurer, and the aforementioned 'prescription hotline' people regularly with questions, updates and statements.

Then FedEx, UPS or the USPS is paid to deliver our supplies. They're also paid to return wrong orders, or malfunctioning equipment.

How does any bulk purchasing discount not get balanced out by all of these additional expenses?

It's also definitely less efficient, taking days if not weeks to fill prescriptions when it used to be possible to pick it all up on the way home. Or, at worst, kill the 20 minute wait picking out a birthday card or browsing the toy department.

And the room for error has increased exponentially. When I pick up a prescription from CVS, I peek in the bag before I walk away from the counter. If there's a problem it's fixed immediately. Meanwhile, our initial order from Edgepark, containing 2 wrong items, required 3 phone calls, a 48 hour wait for a replacement items, a 2 week wait for a return label, and a trip to the post office. And I'm not sure the billing is straightened out yet.

There's so much wrong with the current healthcare marketplace that this is just the tip of the iceberg. At the same time it serves as a lens through which to view the layers of bureaucracy which are adding expense and frustration for all of the players in the healthcare system.

While it wasn't always convenient to go to the pharmacy, especially with a toddler in tow, it was most certainly better than the rigmarole we go through now.

The Owl Bag is in the Orange Toolbox

"The owl bag is in the orange toolbox," the text read.

Nope. This isn't where I reveal that we're part of an intriguing spy ring.

The owl bag is, in fact, a small insulated cosmetic bag which currently holds a glucagon kit, one-touch mini meter, strips, a lancet and a pouch of glucose gel.

The orange tool box is a standard-sized portable toolbox which holds a vast array of items useful for repairing band instruments. Screwdrivers of all sizes with screws to fit everything from a piccolo to a marimba, pliers and wires, glue and assorted tape, reeds, mouthpieces and so much more are all housed in this very heavy toolbox which travels to the field for every rehearsal and with the band for every game, competition and concert.

We turned over the owl bag before summer band rehearsals began for freshman year. Over the course of that first year, it could be found in the director's desk drawer, in his messenger bag and on the sidelines of the football field. Last summer, at the start of summer rehearsals, I received the above cryptic text from my daughter. The band director, wisely we think, decided that if the owl bag was always in the orange toolbox, then it would always be in close proximity to the band.

We removed the owl bag from the toolbox and handed it over to the nurse who went on the recent overnight music department trip. It held just the right collection of things the nurse needed to carry. The day the kids returned to school post-trip, I was reassured by a mid-day text from my daughter:

"The owl bag is back in the orange toolbox."

Mission accomplished.

It Shouldn't Be This Hard

I'm a good 4 weeks into my effort to secure my daughter's Dexcom sensors, test strips and lancets through our new insurance provider. I'm only a little closer than when I began.

I called the insurance company. Who said I had to use their home care case management company, Carecentrix. I talked with Carecentrix a few times more than should have been necessary. I did the job they assigned me: to ask my daughter's doctor's office send them prescriptions with very specific specifications. I was told that Carecentrix would then send my daughter's order to a company through which the supplies would be covered by my insurance. That assigned company would call me to make arrangements.

I received a call the next day from a supply company. The conversation ended with the very nice representative saying this:

"Well, ma'am, I understand you'd rather not switch to a new brand of meter. If you want to continue using the one touch strips...and it sounds like you do...I'm going to suggest you call Carecentrix back and ask for them to assign you a new supply company. I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help to you today."

A couple more phone conversations with Carecentrix, and I was told our supplies would be coming from Edgepark. "They'll call you in the next couple of days." Which they didn't.

When I called Edgepark they had my daughter's name in the system and the list of items requested which was more than I had hoped for. They did not have the correct insurance company, and they had my 16 year old daughter as the primary policy holder. Once that was settled, my phone call was transferred to someone else to 'confirm that the order was underway.'

"Next," I was told, "we have to verify your benefits, and then we will reach out to your provider for the prescriptions." Apparently neither the referral from Carecentrix nor the prescriptions that came along with it were good enough. "We have to fax your doctor paperwork and they have to fax it back with very specific information. It all has to be done on Edgepark letterhead, ma'am."

I asked, in as many ways as I could think of, if there was anything else they needed from me. No, I was told. New orders take up to 10 days to ship, and ours should be on the way within that timeframe.

A recorded telephone call the next day told me that Edgepark needed additional information to process my order. They needed me to call them as soon as possible. After 20 minutes on hold I was told they needed a 'valid method of payment,' which I provided. I was told, once again, that there was nothing else they needed from me.

I received two recorded updates, one that the order had been processed, and then an exciting one that the order would arrive "within one business day."

The next afternoon there was a box on my doorstep!

It contained Dexcom sensors, test strips and lancets:

On the plus side, the Dexcom sensors are exactly what we needed. And, if there's a silver lining, the item we needed most urgently. The test strips and lancets, on the other hand, are being returned. Edgepark, I was told when I called to complain, doesn't carry the variety of lancets my daughter uses. The correct test strips are, allegedly, in the mail.

The Sensor Order

I ordered Dexcom sensors at the beginning of December.

Two weeks later I got an email from Byram telling me that an order was shipping. Good news, I thought- the sensors would be here soon.

Early on a late December morning a box from Byram arrived on my doorstep. It seemed big for a three month supply of sensors.

That's because it wasn't. It was our quarterly, automatically refilled, shipment of pump supplies. I hadn't clicked on the email details, mistakenly thinking that we weren't due for any more pump supplies until January so assuming it could only be about the sensors.

I looked up my sensor order on Byram's online patient portal. 'Order in progress,' it said. But it seemed unusual to me that an order placed over 2 weeks ago would still be 'in progress.'

I called Byram and explained the situation to a representative who really seemed like he cared.

Side note: all of Byram's representatives really seem like they care and I'll be deeply disappointed if next year's new insurance company does not allow us to continue to do business with them.

'I see here it needed insurance authorization, but that should have happened quickly. Can you hold a moment while I look into this a little further?'

So I held.

'So it looks like, as I said, it needed insurance authorization, but it seems nobody followed up on the order. I've expedited the claim and it should be taken care of within an hour or two. And I've set the order up for free express overnight shipping because it was our mistake. Would it be alright if I call you back when it's taken care of?'

'Thank you so much, and yes- a call would be great.'

An hour or so later, the phone rang.

'It's been processed and headed out for shipping. You should have it tomorrow.'

I thanked him again, profusely.

So many things about diabetes are hard, and the grind of procuring supplies and insulin is often punishing. This interaction was anything but.

Stuff Happens

 

Today's the first day of Diabetes Blog Week! (!!!)

Today's topic is: Diabetes can sometimes seem to play by a rulebook that makes no sense, tossing out unexpected challenges at random.  What are your best tips for being prepared when the unexpected happens? Or, take this topic another way and tell us about some good things diabetes has brought into your, or your loved one’s, life that you never could have expected?

 

I try to maintain a family-friendly blog here, so I'll put it this way: Diabetes stuff happens. Like sitting down to lunch only to discover there's only a unit of insulin left in the pump. Or being so low all day that you run out of glucose tabs. Or discovering the meter battery is dead while you're on a sleepover. The stuff is not always preventable. So we try to be prepared for as many eventualities as possible.

 

At home or at school there are plenty of supplies to address any diabetes disaster. When we're out but close to home I can run over to a friend's house with a battery or we can stop home between errands for a new infusion set if we need to.

 

But sometimes we travel further afield. For day trips, excursions while on vacation and school field trips, we throw this Ziploc bag (or a facsimile thereof from school) in the backpack:

 

THE CONTENTS INCLUDE:

A spare vial of test strips

Spare batteries for both the meter and the pump

Glucagon (even though there's usually one in my purse)

The current open vial of insulin

Long-acting insulin for pump failure - at least if we'll be more than an hour or so away

A couple of syringes

Everything needed for a site change including 2 insertion sets

Dexcom tape
Extra glucose tabs

 

 

If it's hot, we put the contents in this insulated zipper bag.

 

It's a lot to carry around. We usually also carry extra juice boxes and water. But it beats the possibility of having to return home (or to our home away from home) if the infusion set rips out, or the pump battery dies, or somebody accidentally dumps all the test strips on the ground.

 

Nobody ever said having diabetes was predictable. Stuff happens. That stuff is less likely to stop us if we're prepared for it.

Want to read more posts about the Unexpected? Click here!
 



The Great Lancet Quest

Every time we travel, I restock the diabetes box.  This time was no different.  I counted out the site change items, threw in an extra 50 test strips and added a new 8 pack of juice boxes.  The flashlight was there for overnight checks and the spare glucagon was still good.

Off we went for a weekend exploring a city my daughter had never visited. On the first morning in the hotel, my husband (our household's official lancet changer) went to swap it out.  "Where are the lancets?" 

"They should be in the diabetes supply box in a snack-sized zippy bag.  It's probably in the big Ziploc with the site change stuff?"

By the time every one of us had rummaged through the stash of supplies, we knew there were no spare lancets to be found.

The initial thought was, 'maybe we could make it- it'll only be 2 more days.' But what if we dropped the lancing device and it popped open?  And certainly it would be better for my daughter's fingers to have a new, very sharp lancet at least every morning. Knowing that there was a CVS a block from our hotel, and that lancets were the least expensive of our supplies to replace, we decided to stop on the way to our morning destination.

We wended our way to the pharmacy department, at the back of the store, where the diabetes things have been kept on nearby shelves in every drug store I've ever visited, and there they were.  Locked in a case in front of the pharmacy counter.  Our usual lancets.  I got the pharmacist's attention. "Can I get a box of lancets, please?"

"Well, here's the thing: the key broke off in that case and I can't open it anymore.  What kind do you need?"

"One touch ultra soft?"

He looked in pharmacy area, hoping he had some stocked for a prescription purchase.  No such luck.  "There's another pharmacy on the next corner, and one on the corner after that," he said pointing.  "I'm sure you can get some there."

On to Rite Aid we went, and back to the pharmacy area. There were unlocked, but there were none of our usual brand.  After a careful assessment of the boxes of Rite Aid brand lancets, we learned that they would fit our lancing device, and that there was a size which would (allegedly) prick the finger with a similar impact.  My daughter was extremely apprehensive.  She wasn't convinced that these new ones wouldn't hurt more or be less effective in drawing blood.  But after weighing the options of buying these and continuing on to our fun tourist destination, or finding another pharmacy, we bought the lancets.  They worked just fine.  And the best part (and probably the ultimate selling point to an anxious kid)? 



Colors!

Not Just Any Bag

We've spent the past six months in search of this gorgeous bag. 

In fact, it really didn't have to be this gorgeous.  It mostly just had to be the right shape and size, and not ugly. 

Our previous bag, purchased at Target, had served at least 2 years of hard time and was on its last legs when it succumbed to a juice box explosion and had to be thrown away.  Turns out cosmetic bag fashions change quicker than you might think, and so we were unable to simply replace our trusty tote with the same model.  We've since made do with make-up bags we had on hand, but none were quite right.  We spent the summer looking in all sorts of stores, to no avail.

The bag had to be the right size, primarily.  Big enough to comfortably fit the meter, lancet, strips, glucose tabs, a juice box, smarties, a spare battery and whatever other odds and ends live at the bottom in case of emergency.  But not so big that it took up an entire purse leaving no room for the other necessities of life.  It also, per its primary user, my daughter, had to stay open at the top.  When unzipped it needed to comfortably fall open so that a blood sugar test could be done in it, like it was a little nest.  This was the feature of the aforementioned Target bag which we couldn't seem to replicate.  Most of the bags we looked at were stiff and wanted to stay closed at the zipper even if it was unzipped.

We'd about given up hope when we stopped in a little local gift shop, for an entirely different purpose, and there it was.  The new bag.  In several colors.  Was it Target priced?  Not even close.  Was it worth it?  Absolutely.

There's even room for the Dexcom receiver, a few dollars for emergency snacks, and lip gloss. 

It's perfect.

Rules Are Rules

I'll need to stop by the school this week to pick up my daughter's diabetes supplies from the nurse's office.

I'll empty the bin full of test strips, lancets, infusion set supplies, juice boxes, glucose tabs and the glucometer into a large shopping bag. I'll be given the insulin from the fridge.

My daughter isn't allowed to carry this stuff home.  Only a parent may pick up medical things from the school.

She is, of course, allowed to carry these items with her in her purse or on her person every day.  She brings or wears them to school, has them with her all day and then brings them home.

But somehow these ones in the nurse's office require my special loving transportation.

Refill Time

I ordinarily order my daughter's diabetes supplies intermittently.  The strips are refilled in one month, the insulin in another.  Yet because of some glitch in the time-space-diabetes continuum this week, we needed everything at once.

Ordering the strips and lancets requires a phone call during which I yell numbers and answers to yes-no questions at an automated telephone robot lady.

Insulin is a 2 step process of calling in the refill to CVS and picking it up.  The third step is avoiding purchasing the discount Valentine's Day candy or the new Easter candy on the way in and out of the store.

Ordering sensors involves an unfailingly friendly conversation with someone in Utah.

Insulin pump supplies usually ship automatically but when I need to change our order for any reason, it also involves a phone call with a real person.

Taken separately, these tasks are not overly time-consuming.  Sometimes there's a line at CVS, or I'm put on hold to wait for a representative.  But even then, it's manageable.

What I realized yesterday was that, strung together, these activities take up a solid chunk of time.

I started at noon, calling in the order for the strips.  Ten minutes.  Then I called for the sensors. I was on hold for ten minutes, and spent another ten minutes on the phone with the afore-mentioned friendly person in Utah.  I needed to add cartridges back into our pump supply order after using up a surplus. Fifteen minutes. Then I drove to CVS, where I waited in line for the insulin I'd ordered the day before. That was a 25 minute round-trip.  Put all together, this string of tasks felt like a huge undertaking instead of the usual quick project while dinner was cooking or quick stop on the way home from the grocery store.

Put in perspective, of course, this is not a big deal.  In an hour and a half, with a manageable-for-us expense, I was able to order everything I need to keep my child alive for another 3 months.

But I'd still rather spend the time and money on something more fun.

Back to School

For the first time, diabetes wasn't a big back to school issue here.

All of the forms from the endocrinologist were filled out, signed and turned in to the nurse in June.

There were no treatment or equipment changes over the summer to educate the school staff about.

We packed up the bag of supplies and checked it twice.

It's been our tradition to drop off the supplies a day or two before school starts.  This visit has always included at least a quick check-in with the nurse and until 6th grade with teachers as well.  We go over any changes from the previous year and answer any questions.

This year we had only one free morning during the two days when staff were in the building for meetings and setting up. We learned the nurse might not be available when we arrived.  She was not.  We left the well-labeled bag in the office. We missed saying 'hello' and exchanging pleasantries about the summer.  Otherwise we had no concerns about not meeting face to face.

The nurse has not yet needed to call home.

Reports are good about lunch.  She's sitting with friends of her choice, and she's finishing in time to go outside with everyone else.

There have been no classroom-related diabetes concerns.

This appears to be a non-story until it's put in perspective.

Seven years ago this same girl started Kindergarten.  The preparation was extensive. We spent hours in the nurse's office reviewing every detail of the care she needed.  We met with every teacher who would come in contact with my daughter.  The nurse, my daughter and I took turns quelling each other's anxieties.  My daughter was tiny and needed help with every aspect of her care.  She needed staff to watch for signs of low blood sugars, and to make sure she was eating all of her food, and that she wasn't accepting food from others.  The other elementary school years were progressively easier, but we still had an annual meeting with the primary teacher and the nurse.

Two years ago we spent time settling in to the middle school.  There was a new nurse.  My daughter encountered a minimum of seven teachers every day.  There was a new lunchroom to navigate and a new schedule to adapt to.  It took time and energy develop a good diabetes routine and a good working relationship with the new set of staff.  Last year was certainly simpler, but a few things had changed and we spent a little time in the health office making sure we were on the same page.

It's amazing to look back and realize how much my daughter has learned to do for herself in the past seven years. She needs significantly less hands-on help from the school nurse or her teachers. It's reassuring to see how our hard work building relationships with and communicating with the schools has paid off.  We have a thorough 504 plan, an excellent nurse, and a staff who has been well-educated by that nurse.

We don't know what next year will bring; and I'm sure the high school transition will bring its own collection of tasks and challenges.  Right now, I'm just going to be grateful that this year's start was easy.

Dexi's Vacation

Dexi survived the first few salt water laden days of our vacation.  Initially, we were checking and reinforcing tape regularly.  They we got sidetracked by swimming and beach walking.  As we prepared for the outdoor shower after a long beach day, she was discovered to be slightly dislodged.  A delicate operation to attempt to resuscitate her failed and she was removed.

Our deal when we first started the Dexcom was that breaks were o.k.  The request was to take one at this point, so we did.  I must say there were plusses.

It was hard enough to remember the meter kit every time we left the cottage.  The constant transferring of the meter and other necessities between my purse, a small string bag and the beach bag was challenge enough. The Dexcom receiver would have been just one more thing to track down - or forget.

While the alarming is, of course, helpful to alert us to high blood sugars, there were a few frozen treats and fried seafood meals I'm glad Dexi never became aware of.   We didn't ignore the highs - we tested and corrected regularly.  But there's at least one night I'm sure Dexi would have ended up sleeping in the car so she didn't keep us up all night.

Wearing the sensor in the ocean makes me just a smidge nervous.  No- it's never fallen completely off, and I don't expect it will.   But were it to do so, I'm certain we'd never see it again.  It would turn into a mysterious item for someone's beachcombing bucket some day.

I think my daughter was happy to have her belly free.  It felt nice to swim and boogie board and dig around in the sand without a protrusion.  Also, nobody was looking at it or asking questions about it. The tankinis cover it when she's standing still, but it becomes exposed with movement, and certainly when the bathing suit ruffles float up in the water.  The pump site is invisible under her suit, and when she's walking or playing, she wears terry cloth shorts with big pockets to put the pump in.  She's willing to answer questions - but a vacation from doing so is nice too.

Dexi's back up and running, and alarming, and being forgotten when we go to the library.  We missed her information, and are finding her graphs helpful as we transition from an active vacation to a quiet week at home. There was no objection to starting her up again, and my daughter's glad to have her around on days like today when she's at the pool with a friend.

But the break wasn't bad.

None. Nada. Nil.

Half of a basement closet  is dedicated to diabetes supplies. The usual suspects are there, unpacked from the three month supply boxes which arrive on our doorstep: pump supplies, dexcom sets, lancets, and strips. There's a large collection of manuals to diabetes devices and booklets given to us by various diabetes care providers. This is where we keep our collection of spare lancets, meters, tapes, and samples of stuff we are reluctant to throw out.

Until recently I have been the primary user of the closet. Supplies were put in and taken out only by me. Times are changing for the better, with a kid who is happily taking on a little more independence with a few things diabetes.  One task she's taken on has been replenishing the supplies in her room, including lancets and test strips.

Here's where the cautionary part of the tale begins:

Happy that she was regularly ferrying the test strips from the basement, I neglected to keep up with the inventory. So yesterday as I started to pack the diabetes box for vacation I made an alarming discovery. There were no boxes of test strips in the closet. None. Nada. Nil. 

We weren't OUT out. There were two vials in her room and some other partial vials in spare meters. I immediately ordered more and am extremely hopeful the box will arrive on our doorstep before we travel. If it does not, it's possible to purchase them over the counter.  Just incredibly expensive.

A two part solution has been put into place to address this issue.  I've put a note on my calendar and a reminder in my phone to reorder at the next possible interval. I can no longer rely on noticing the supply is running low before I make that call.  Secondly, while attempting to support the responsibility and helpfulness of my daughter's new role as the designated strip fetcher, I've emphasized the importance of also being the designated strip inventory-er.

I'm ordinarily a bit of a supply hoarder.  I feel much more comfortable with stuff stashed away, 'just in case.' In my mind, this 'just in case' has meant an insurance mix-up, a financial glitch, or a job transition. Now I know - it could come in handy for something as simple as packing for vacation.

Dexi's Wordless Wednesday

Helpful Hint:

The Dexcom ceases to be useful if you pack it in your mother's purse instead of your own before leaving for the day.

An Ode to String Bags

We started with a diaper bag

So many years ago.

Then there was a mommy tote

With toys and snacks to go.

Of late it's been my giant purse

To carry all the freight.

But really couldn't other folks

Help carry all the weight?

With a glance upon the closet shelf

A solution was at hand.

Forty seven string bags

Of every color and brand.

To ballgames, hikes and theme parks,

To museums and parties we'll go.

Taking our turns to carry the stuff

For the perpetual diabetes show.

Diabetes Art Day

The photo was created over the weekend and the image uploaded in time for yesterday's event.

We spent the rest of Monday shoveling snow.

So here it is, better late than never, my daughter's contribution to Diabetes Art Day:

THE CIRCLE OF DIABETES

Reorganizing

A combination of factors led to an absolute mess on the surface of my daughter's room which is dedicated to diabetes supplies.  

A couple of months ago she chose to start doing site changes in her room instead of a spare room we had previously used.  Therefore, site change supplies started to accumulate on a surface previously dedicated to just blood sugar checks.

Starting the dexcom added more stuff, particularly the regularly used tape and scissors to keep the sensor securely attached.

So in the January spirit of getting organized and starting fresh, I unearthed a cute basket from the basement and set everything up neatly:

I wonder how long it will last?

Do We Need The Diabetes Box?

It was to be a fun, though driving intensive, round-trip weekend to northern New England for our nephews' baptisms.

On Saturday afternoon we arrived  in the freezing rain at the bottom of a long dirt road to find a police officer stationed there.  "We're trying to get to my sister's house at the end of this road," my husband explained.

"I wouldn't recommend it," the officer replied in a thick New Zealand accent, lending an unexpected and exotic angle to the conversation.  "You see that steep hill there?"  We did.  It was at least a hundred yards long at least a 60 degree angle up. "I just watched someone come back down that hill sideways.  I tried and got halfway up and slid back down.  We've called in a sander truck, but I'm not sure how long it will be. I'd say head back into town for a bit and check back later."

When we returned, no progress had been made.  "Sorry, mate," the officer said, "I don't know when he'll be here.  They've broken two trucks already today.  The whole town's a sheet of ice."

So that's when we made the decision to hike in.  We were just under a mile from our destination.  Our hosts couldn't make it up their steep driveway to meet us partway, so we would need to carry in everything we needed for the night.

Fortunately I had packed all of our clothes for the next day in one suitcase, and our toiletry kits in a backpack.  We put on our heavy boots and all of our snow clothes.  I packed all of our electronics and chargers into my purse and wrapped it in a plastic grocery bag.  If we left the air mattress, the house gifts, and some other non-essential items in the car, we'd be o.k.

"What about the diabetes box?" my husband asked.  I had debated bringing a slimmed down ziploc to begin with, with just a few essentials but decided that we'd be far enough from home that I should just throw the whole box in.  I debated it again.  Could we get by with putting just a few emergency supplies in the backpack?

Then I looked back up at that icy hill and thought about how the police car could't get up it.  Could an ambulance?  Would we be able to get back down it?  Worst case scenarios streamed through my mind.  "Yup.  We need to bring it."

My daughter even agreed to carry it for while, since it provided waterproof shelter for her stuffed rabbit.

Climbing that hill with all of our gear was a challenge, particularly since we had to go through fairly deep snow to avoid the ice.  This wasn't the situation I had imagined when I purchased the waterproof box with a handle for the diabetes gear, but being able to set it down in the snow once in a while was ideal. We were met at the top of the hill with extra hands so that my husband and sister-in-law could go back down to find a neighbor's driveway to park the car in overnight.  On their way back to the house they watched the sander truck arrive and promptly go off the road halfway up the hill.

We had a great night, complete with a warm family meal, a cousin pillow fight and board games.  As the sun came out the next morning, my sister-in-law got us back down the hill with her studded snow tires. The boys were baptized during a lovely mass.  We enjoyed lunch in the church hall with extended family and had an uneventful trip home.

The only thing we needed out of the diabetes box?  The stuffed rabbit.