The Not So Silent Diabetes

Sometimes I like to play this game where I put myself in other people’s shoes and try to guess what they must be thinking.

Let me give you some examples.

I recently started an internship where I’m working in a cubicle. I’ve met the people on the other side of my cube walls, but they don’t really know more than my name since they are in a different department from me. They don’t know about my diabetes. Anyways, the office that I work in is pretty quiet all day. I can hear the mouse clicks from 2 or 3 cubes down. Sometimes I like to think about what the guy on the other side of my cube wall must be thinking when he hears all this:

Bzzzzz Bzzzz Bzzzzz. Drawer opening and closing. Zipp. Zipp. Click. Beeeeeep. Zipp. Zipp. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Crinkle crinkle. Drawer again.

First my CGM goes off, buzzing in my drawer. Sometimes I open and get it out, and then end up testing my blood sugar with my meter. The meter beeps when the reading appears and then my pump beeps when the number is sent to it. Then I either give insulin through my pump (more beeps), or I treat my low with some fruit snacks (thus the crinkling).

So what is the guy on the other side of the wall (or anyone else) thinking when he hears all these noises and beeps??

He probably thinks that I’m sitting on my phone getting all kinds of messages.

Maybe he thinks I’m playing some kind of game that beeps a lot.

Maybe it’s my pager going off because I’m needed down in surgery. Or the President is paging. It’s my pilot paging to tell me that my personal helicopter is ready and waiting to take off.

That I have a mini robot in my desk drawer. He beeps when he feels neglected. He feels that way a lot apparently.

Again, I thought about this when I was in the bathroom changing my infusion set. I was going to run out of insulin before the end of the day so I took all my supplies with me to change it in the bathroom. There are only two stalls in the bathroom so I took the handicap stall that had a sink and counter in it. I heard the door open and close and someone enter the stall next to me. I tend to think that bathrooms can be a little awkward as it is, so I try to get in and out as quickly as I can. Except this time I knew changing my set would take a little longer.

Ripppp. Motor sounds. Beep Beep Beep. Clink Clink. Beep beep beep beep beep beep beep. Click. Beep Beep Beep Beep.

Opening the supplies isn’t very quiet as I rip open the air-tight packaging. Next I rewind the pump, and you can hear the motor working. I fill the syringe with insulin, clinking the glass to get the bubbles out. Then I put the new cartridge of insulin in and prime it with a series of beeps. When it’s all set, it’s inserted with a loud click followed by some more beeps to further prime the insulin. It’s not a quiet process, and not the sounds one usually hears in a bathroom. So what is this woman thinking is going on?

Again, maybe she thinks I escaped to the bathroom to use my phone.

Maybe I’m playing some kind of game.

She might think it’s another kind of medical device or maybe she knows it’s an insulin pump.

That I’m building a time machine in the bathroom.

That I’ve created an extraterrestrial connection in the office bathroom and we are communicating through a series of beeps.

Honestly, I have no idea. The woman left the bathroom before I was finished and the guy on the other side of my cube wall has yet to inquire about all the noise. I never really realized how loud diabetes can be until sitting in a silent office all day.

I may not know what these people think is actually going on, but I’ve enjoyed trying to figure it out.

A mini robot in my desk drawer would be pretty awesome though.

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