This morning I stopped by my office building’s cafe to grab some breakfast, my standard, multigrain toast and a hard-boiled egg.  Today I am wearing a black sleeveless dress and amazingly, (see pic from yesterday’s post), my fauna decorated Dexcom still looks perky after a shower (shocking, I figured it would dissolve). The Dex in my arm doesn’t seem to ever blend-in but the contrast today seems more significant.

The woman behind me in line asked, “What’s that on your arm?”.

Me: “Oh I’m diabetic and it’s a continuous glucose monitor so it shows me blood sugar trends” (pointed at Dex receiver on top of my phone on counter).

Lady: “Oh my friend has diabetes but he has a…. ummm…” (pointing to her hip).

Me: “Oh an insulin pump.” I grab my pump thru my dress, attached to underwear so she can see the boxy shape on my hip.

Lady: (looking confused). “Oh his pump takes care of everything, he doesn’t need anything like that” (pointing to my arm).

Me: “Yes, the thing in my arm gives me glucose readings.  It helps me make decisions with the pump and alerts me if my glucose is too high or too low.  It’s a new technology that’s been really helpful for me.”

Lady: “The only problem he has with the pump is if we go to the theater and it goes off going through security, but otherwise it takes care of EVERYTHING.”

I’ve decided I MUST find this theater loving man with a pump that takes care of EVERYTHING.

This week has been filled with incredible BG frustration (and yes I am still taking +10% to +20% temp basal & multiple corrections per day with mild success).  I got in the elevator and felt angry.  In my moment of anger and frustration, I thought how much I would like to smack the man with his pump that takes care of everything.  He has done a disservice to me and many others like me, letting this woman roam the earth thinking that his pump is a cure and its biggest frustration is that it sets off a metal detector sometimes, you know, at the theater.