Stick It

08/06/08 Disease Basics

My fingertips are an absolute mess. The middle, ring, and pinky fingers on both hands are a mottled mass of miniscule cuts, scabs, and scars. Eighteen years of finger-sticking at least eight times a day means that my now calloused digits have endured 52,560 punctures. Calculate into that number the fact that I use only six of my 10 targets, and each one has suffered 8,760 pricks. Yes, my fingers are crying out for me to use alternate sites, but I pretend not to hear them, because I have not had any success with other parts of my body.

The easiest option was to incorporate my index fingers and thumbs. But once, early on in this new attempt at bloodletting, I struck a nerve in my index finger. The pain shot up my hand, through my arm, to my elbow, and then back again, in a searing circuitous loop. Never again, I swore, and have kept my word. I never tried my thumbs; there seems no good rationale to utilize them. The thumbs are the workhorses of the hand, always gripping and prying and otherwise bearing the weight of our daily tasks. I do not want to drop anything because my injured and sensitive thumbs cannot handle the load.

When I was young, my mother would “finger-stick” my ears instead of waking me for the traditional morning poke so I could sleep in a bit. At first this was fine and relatively painless. Then I began to find dried blood encrusted on the bottom of my earlobe. Inevitably I would peel it off and the bleeding would resume. It is much easier to apply a band-aid to a fingertip than it is an ear. Also, one time, a nerve was hit during the stick and I howled into my morning. Neither my mother nor I went near my ears again.

Recently the forearm has become the du jour option for many who cringe at the traditional method, or who, like me, need alternatives. I jumped at the opportunity, but detested it. The puncture is not the same. The blood does not pool readily and does not rise to the surface to meet the awaiting test strip; it requires more work. The lancet pen comes equipped with an end that allows you to twist and press, drawing the blood out. In the end, I was left with a mashed blood sample, and a circular bruise just beginning to form beneath the skin.

Obviously, I must simply deal with my marred fingertips much as I have all the other small discomforts of diabetes. In the end, traditional finger sticks are just easier—and life with diabetes is complicated enough. Sorry fingers.

Eric Devine, 30, has lived with type 1 diabetes since he was 12. He lives in upstate New York with his wife and two daughters where he works as a high school English teacher. Devine is an avid writer and is currently seeking publication of two Young Adult novel manuscripts.