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I debated where to wear Toohey today: in my pocket (out of sight) or on my belt as I always do. Prior to this morning, I had been to my new office three times: twice for interviews and once to sign my offer letter.* All three times Toohey was tucked neatly in my pocket, no tubing was visible, I was a normal-looking person.

 

So I debated for several days and ultimately decided not to hide, to wear Toohey on my belt as always, to be myself. I decided though to not come out and say "Hey, I have diabetes" on my first day. I just wanted it to flow, to just happen naturally. I really thought I would have had some questions since Toohey was so visible.

 

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Recently, a woman at work discovered I have diabetes. I don't hide the fact that I have it at work, but it's not readily apparent. In the interest of safety, I've told several key people outright - and the folks in the near vicinity of my work space know because I don't hide my testing, pumping, or other efforts toward good control. If someone asks, I am usually happy to answer questions, clear up misconceptions, or alleviate concerns.
L, who works on the other side of our fairly large office, and who I don't see that often, came to my desk the other day and rather unceremoniously started into a monologue about my diabetes, It went something like, "Oh, Nicole" Look of concern, "A just told me about your diabetes. You have the bad kind, don't you? You have to take shots and things. Oh it must be so hard with having it the way you do. You have to stay away from sweets and I bet the shots hurt a lot."
Oh Dear. What to do? (READ MORE)

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It's been a week and I haven't said anything to my coworkers about diabetes. Not even to either of my bosses. I'm not hiding it either. I really thought that on my first day people would be pointing and staring and asking about my pump, which I decided to wear on my belt as usual.

 

But nothing. I was surprised, actually. On day two or three, I was introduced to two people who I will work closely with in the future, one of whom noticed that something was on my belt, but she couldn't really figure out what it was. A cell phone? An iPod? she wondered aloud.

 

"It's an insulin pump," I said matter of factly.

 

"A what?"

 

"An insulin pump," I said.

 

"Oh."

 

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A number of you left comments on my post about leaving little clues about my diabetes diagnosis for my boss in an email. Several of you were pretty critical of my actions.

 

Long-time readers of my blog, though, will know that I’ve decided to take a different approach at my new job. When I was diagnosed, I was less than a year into a job I loved with people I loved and respected. I had no problem telling just about everyone about my diagnosis. In fact, I felt relieved knowing everyone knew.

 

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To: Michelle's boss
From: Michelle
Date: Tuesday, Sept. 23, 2008
Subject: Tomorrow morning

 

Hey, boss. I'm going to have some bloodwork done on my way in tomorrow. I should be in by 8:30. I went to do it on Friday afternoon, but my doctor's office failed to tell me I had to be fasting. Grrr.

 

To: Michelle
From: Michelle's boss
Date: Tuesday, Sept. 23, 2008
Subject: Re: Tomorrow morning

 

OK. I hope everything's OK.

 

To: Michelle's boss
From: Michelle
Date: Tuesday, Sept. 23, 2008
Subject: Re: Tomorrow morning

 

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On Thursday night, I found myself in an emergency room exam room at 2 am, waiting anxiously and staring up at a picture of a baby cocker spaniel posing cutely in a watering can.

No, don't worry. Charlie is fine. I'm fine too. Whole family is fine. This was an emergency room for pets. But wait, I don't even own a pet.  I'm not even a pet person. I had to get up for work in a few hours. What was I doing?

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