Monday, 19 January 2015


"...and my blood sugars have been all over the place..."

I have no idea what led to that being said, but my ears pricked up, listening out for more info, as my brain weighed up the pros and cons of "revealing" that I too am diabetic.

I decided to remain silent. I'm never certain of the right call to make in those situations. Some people really appreciate the "me too" sentiment, others not so much.

The next day, the same thing happened again, but this time I was with a friend who's had the full disclosure talk.

"...he's really worried, because he knows I'm not right...It's just hard going...I really hate this sometimes...and I shouldn't let diabetes get to me..."

"Talk to her," Iddy Biddy Budgen said, looking over at me, "She gets it!"

"Are you diabetic too?"

"Yep," I replied, "type one, with my replacement pancreas clipped to my bra...I use an insulin pump," I explained.

"They've spoken to me about a pump...I'm not too sure though. Do you like yours?"

"I love mine, but it wasn't without its' difficulties in the beginning. And it's not for everyone. For me, it fits in so much better with my life right now."

"Can I ask you how it works?"

"Of course! The cannula's in my leg at the moment. You can kind of see the outline through my trousers, but I'll show you what it looks like properly next week [site rotation said it would be in my right hip my Monday - it is!] And the pump is here," and I unclip it from my bra to show her.

"And you trust that to give you your insulin?"

"Yes. Now I do anyway. Took a while to get used to in the beginning. But the pump's super-smart, and it will alarm to tell me if there's a problem. And, touch wood, I've not had any yet. Apart from a low battery alarm. And a low cartridge. But that's it!"

"Impressive! I have to get back to work, but I want to talk to you some more if you don't mind? And I think my other half will want to chat too. Would that be okay?"

"Anytime. You know where the office is. And you have my extension number. And here's my mobile number," and I scribbled it down on a post-it note, "if you need anything, you now know every way of getting in touch!"

"Thank you, I will! It's nice knowing you get it, even though it sucks you have it. That made no sense!"

"Actually it did. I know what you're saying."

I hate knowing that there's someone else going through it, that you reading this may be going through it, and as sorry as I am for that, maybe selfishly, it's also comforting to know you're going through the same shit as me. Here's hoping that sentiment doesn't make me a bad person. 

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