We are truly blessed

There are many ways for a type 1 diabetic to get the insulin they need to live into their body. Alex uses multiple daily injections to get her insulin. An insulin pump is another way (very common in developed countries), but it will probably never be doable here in Ghana. The technology isn’t here, and for the most part, I think the pump companies wouldn’t come because there’s no money to be made on it. Each pump costs in the thousands of dollars and that's just for the equipment. Factor in the infusion sets, and all of the other stuff needed, and it's an expensive never-ending treatment. No, insulin pump companies will not bring this marvel of medicine to Ghana any time soon because it is all about the money (and profits), despite what anyone says. But we recently received two donations, which are probably as close to (insulin) “pumping” as Alex is going to get, at least for the next few years. Two very nice ladies sent us two very interesting things: The Luxura Insulin Pen and the I-Port.

Now, Alex already has an insulin pen, and it’s really nice ‘cause it keeps track of the last 16 doses and all, but it only doses in full units. And Alex is still small enough that she occasionally needs a half unit or a unit and a half. If I give her a full unit and it’s too much insulin, her blood sugar gets too low, and if I give her less than she really needs, then her sugar gets too high. We could get around that with a syringe, but that’s neither here nor there. But the Luxura insulin pen doses in half units, and it has been wonderful at keeping Alex’s numbers in better range. Her 7 day and 30 day averages have both gone down. Of course the proof is in the A1C, but that’s next month.

The other interesting donation is the I-Port, which is what is known as a delivery device. It allows insulin to be injected through a port. You know how if a person needs an IV in the hospital they stick that little thingy in the back of their hand, and then they inject into that? This is the same concept. The I-Port goes into Alex, a little tiny (really really tiny) cannula stays embedded in her skin (until it removes, that is) and all of her insulin is injected through it. No more individual injections!

I was a little intimidated by it when I first saw it, because the needle that the cannula is in is a lot bigger than her pen needles or her syringe, but I was brave and followed the instructions and 1-2-3 in it went! Alex didn’t flinch or wince or anything. For the next 24 hours all of her insulin went into the port. Then, the I-Port came off after swimming, so we had to do another. And another, and another.


That's the I-Port in the picture, a few hours before it came off. So far, we’ve been through five of them; each lasting only a day or so. They’re supposed to last between 3 and 4 days, so that has been disappointing. But Alex loves it, because I can give her a shot before food and after food, if she wants more than she originally thought. (Oh, and that Fanta cocktail requires a full unit of insulin all by itself.) That’s the good news. The bad news is that I’ve only got another dozen left, so we’re using it a little more judiciously, and I’m telling Alex to be careful, because she’s accidentally torn out the last two by banging into things.

On a sad note, I read a press release the other day that started off with these disturbing words, “The life expectancy for a child with type 1 diabetes in much of sub-Saharan Africa is typically less than one year.” I emailed the contact person who put out this press release and asked when we can expect to see this program come to Ghana. I haven't had a response, yet, but I'm hopeful.

As we approach Alexandra’s one year anniversary of her dealing with this horrible disease, I can’t tell you how amazingly lucky and blessed we are. I am sickened at the thought that there may be so many “unlucky” children with type 1 diabetes here. All of our children are blessings from God. They don’t deserve this.