Bigfoot top expert in get rid of item. Maybe item useless, maybe not. Strategy is get rid of thing, deal with regret in future (if ever). Regret never arise, especially since live small quarters. So why so hard decide save or recycle Bubs’s first diabetes blood sugar notebook? Decide ask spouse, who often have trouble get rid of items.
BFOOT: Do you think we would ever want to look at this? I mean, it’s just notes. We won’t ever need these numbers again
BFSPOUSE: The only time we might want it would be to show a family that has just been diagnosed
BFOOT: But is it even that good? It’s a mess
BFSPOUSE: It’s full of bad memories
BFOOT: Yeah, I’d just tell them to get a LogFrog. And if someone wanted to see how to keep a paper record, I could show them how we did it, but I wouldn’t need this as an example
Spouses agree. Get rid of. But very hard put book in recycle basket. All different style handwriting, fuchsia Sharpie, dull pencil, dried out old ballpoint, grand era of remembering keep black Uniball micro in bag; crazy number, so high, so low; math scribble for carb tally; era of get up 1 AM, 4AM; first time stay in range full day…
Bigfoot probably put notebook in bottom sock drawer. Not want look at again, but want to know there. More than newborn footprint hospital, want hang on this record. Sentimentality a mystery.
Meanwhile, December 23rd Animas pump arrive. Not use until February, maybe not until March. But whole big box sit in house, wait politely in tidy package for snork into Bubs’s abdomen. Teeny hose make stomach flip. Hook-angle needle. Word “infusion.” Image on boxes of couple give Eskimo kisses, girl play tug-of-war. Everyone enjoy exhilarating fun with insulin pump. Complimentary alcohol swab inside, have fancy name, something like—not alcohol swab–“intravenous preparation pad.”