"So you missed my big health news last week," I said to my boss this evening as we were working late.

"Oh, no, I know. K. told me," she said, "that you're going on the pump. That's great news. Are you hooked up?"

"Yes, I got all set today," I said lifting my shirt slightly to show off my pump. "But the bigger news is that we discovered that I'm actually type 1 and not type 2."

Enter blank stare.

With a type 1 brother in law, I really thought I was talking to an understanding audience, but I was (partly) wrong.

Over the last few days, I've encountered a lot of these misunderstandings that I didn't really expect. One day last week, I called my sister to let her in on the news of my new diagnosis and about the pump. It was really a process to explain to her that this was all no big deal.

You would have thought that I'd have learned. But no, I'm stubborn. Saturday morning when I walked No. 1 down the street to get his hair cut, I was wearing my yet-to-be-attached pump. Still in my grubbies, it was well concealed. R. has been our stylist for about six years; I consider her a friend of mine.

"See my new medical accessory," I said proudly.

The color left her face. I think she thought I was on death's door. More explaining to assure R. that I am indeed fine and that my pump is actually going to make things better.

It's been challenging over the last few days to remember that while I'm absolutely thrilled with my pump and all it will do for me, there is still a level of misunderstanding by those who don't have diabetes or don't know someone with diabetes. And I suppose that I'll have to get used to people looking like I have only moments to live when it is one way or another revealed that I have a piece of medical equipment attached to me at all times.