As is my way, I sat down to Thanksgiving yesterday with my insulin pen next to my plate. Just prior to sitting down, I was talking to a family friend, who happens to be a nurse.

"Will you inject before or after you eat?" she asked while also quizzing me about how I know how much insulin to take.

"I'll inject before I eat. And with a meal like this, I'll just have to guess how many carbs I'm going to have."

She nodded in understanding. She's a school nurse at a junior high and helps many students manage their diabetes. I suspect she was comparing management techniques.

Our conversation carried on after dinner. Several of us remained at the table wallowing in the atmosphere. I tend to fidget and found myself playing with my insulin pen the way others flip coins through their fingers or unconsciously remove and replace the cap of an ink pen. That's likely what brought the subject back up.

I've said this before, but the questions and the conversation about diabetes didn't bother me at all. Granted, no one was telling me what I could and couldn't eat. (In fact, earlier when Mom was still cooking, she told me that they had decided to make the cranberry salad with regular sugar because they knew I'd have my insulin pen with me. And then she felt even better when I reminded her that I don't eat cranberry salad.) But still, I was happy to discuss insulin, carbs and the fact that I'm considering a pump.

I know it can get old, and I know that even when people think they have good intentions that their comments come off plain rude, but maybe a little empathy on our parts can go a long way toward education.