I’ve always been a wiper.
Pants, napkins, the dark material of my glucose meter case. Never anything normal like an actual alcohol swab. And I’ve never been a licker, although I have many friends who are. I don’t judge them for their bloodthirsty ways, and I hope they don’t begrudge me my slovenly habits.
You’d think that if any aspect of diabetes management would be simple, it’d be what to do with the blood left on your finger after you test.
It was never really something I thought about unless I was around a lot of other people, or if I saw a D-friend wiping his blood in a different way. Or, if I was enjoying a bike ride by the sea in Key West and a swarm of ants streamed from my blood-encrusted meter case when I stopped to check my blood sugar.
But then one day, several magical packets of Diabetic Dabs arrived in my mailbox.
They’re these little sticky squares of sheets that adhere to the inside of your meter case (or Fossil makeup thing that you’re using as a meter case) that you can use to soak up leftover blood. Like a teeny-weeny stack of Kleenex made just for PWDs and their poor, leaky digits. Like little square maxi pads for your fingers.
(And despite the name “Diabetic Dabs,” they actually don’t have diabetes, as far as I can tell.)
I’ve had one stack stuck to the inside of my Fossil case for the past month, and I really do love them. I’m not just saying that because I got them for free.* (Karen agrees with me.)
The little sheets are insanely absorbent, so you barely even have to touch your finger to the sheet to get the blood off. And they don’t feel like another diabetes accessory that’s hanging around and getting in my way, because (unlike a lot of other d-things), they actually solve a problem. I feel like I’m actually doing a legit, semi-hygenic thing by using Diabetic Dabs, evidenced by the fact that I don’t have to check to see if anyone’s watching before I use one, they way that I used to do when I wiped my finger on my pants.
The one and only suggestion I’d give to the makers of Diabetic Dabs would be to make each Dab less absorbent and large, because I think I can make it another year and a half on the supply I have right now. Well, that and maybe make them glazed-doughnut-scented.
I was lucky enough to get a few extra packages of Diabetic Dabs, so if you, too, would like to experience the magic of not smearing blood all over your clothes or meter case, leave a comment here before midnight, March 4 and I’ll choose two winners and ship them off to you.
*The good folks at Diabetic Dabs were kind enough to send me free samples, but they didn’t tell me what to say. The above opinions are all my own. Bloody pinky-swear.