“Boop beep boop!”

The sound is unmistakable, as it used to ring out from my hip for so many years.  That noise, the sound of a Medtronic insulin pump alerting for whatever reason, used to be my soundtrack before Fur Elise and the “boop boop boop!” of the Animas pump replaced it.

Boop beep boop!”

I was sitting outside of the classroom where my daughter was meeting with the school administrators for her pre-kindergarten screening tests when I heard that familiar noise.  (The tests upon which I will not comment because this whole process is so strange and so involved – whatever happened to reading books and milk cartons and coloring?  In related news, I’ve become an old bird.)

Looking up, I saw a teacher walking down the hallway, casually talking to her colleague with their lunch bags in hand, her fingertips deftly and instinctively pressing the buttons on her insulin pump, administering what I assumed was a lunch bolus.

“Boop beep boop!”

Even though I’ve found so much comfort in the diabetes community and have made lifelong friends who are funny, kind, and also happen to not make their own insulin, I wanted to leap up and say hi to the woman in the elementary school who also wore an insulin pump.  She was here!  In my town!  Randomly!  A PWD (person with diabetes) spotting in-the-wild is always exciting.  Kind of like finding Bigfoot, only with fewer over-the-shoulder glances and more “see a birthday cake!” faces.

But instead, I sat in the folding chair and minded my own business, secretly thrilled once again by the knowledge that it only takes a quiet series of beeps and boops to remind me that I am not alone.

 

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