Already Running Late

I was running behind Wednesday morning.

Late to work, thanks to traffic woes. Courtesy of the construction on Indianapolis expressways and the drivers who simply shouldn't be allowed to take up space in the traffic lanes.

While I was going to be late, we're not talking an extraordinary amount of time - just enough to ensure that I'd be walking into an important meeting at work minutes after it was set to start. Or that I'd be responsible for delaying it. A phone call to let my boss I was en route and all seemed OK, but I wasn't eager to prolong my delay any more than necessary.

Finally made it downtown after the construction and congestion. Came to a halt on fourth floor of my parking garage. Sacrificed a quick moment to test, dreading the result (300+ mg/dL, in case you were wondering). Lifted my shirt and took my morning Lantus injection that I hadn't had time for earlier while still at home and also grabbed some skin to pinch for a correction bolus.

The fact that I was High just added to my mood, even if it was Wednesday (aka #dsma day) and cause for automatic D-Community Happiness. Composed myself and headed down, hopping down some stairs and then crossing a couple crosswalks toward my office building about two blocks away. The front door was just around the corner, meaning I was only moments from seeing my boss and colleagues in that morning meeting.

That's when I saw HIM.

A Random Guy At A Parking Meter.

He was a complete stranger, standing off on the side of the sidewalk feeding some money into the new parking meter boxes. Had never met him before... but on his belt line was something oh-so-familiar and made this man a member of my extended family: A blue-colored Minimed Paradigm insulin pump!!!!!

It was like a scene from Kerri's own blog, where you might not be surprised to hear the line "I See Pump People."

But this was my own world. And he was right there. Ten feet away, but getting closer as I hustle-walked along. Had I stretched out my arm, I could've grabbed his pump. Or smacked him on the back, like a long lost friend re-connecting after eons of being apart.

I really really really wanted to jump toward this D-peep, pointing like a nerd to his pump and screaming, "HEY THERE, FELLOW ADULT D-PEEP, NICE PARADIGM PUMP THERE! WHAT A SMALL WORLD!"

But I didn't. Instead, my mind moved quickly and tried to weigh the two things competing for my attention at that moment: the need to get to that important work meeting, and the incredible desire to meet a fellow PWD right there in Indianapolis.

Hmm. I was already late.. what harm would another couple minutes mean???? I could do a quick intro, say hello, offer a business card with contact details, and move on.

Yet, then it occurred to me that I was indeed still on a Pump Hiatus and wasn't wearing my insulin pump. Instead, I'd have to explain that and possibly even get into the why for this little break... Why I wasn't wearing any signs of my diabetes on the outside, and appeared to be just some random person.

My mind envisioned this imaginary conversation: introductions, pump-gawking explanation, and the rest of the conversation that could/would likely begin, despite my really not having time to talk. I flashed to that awkwardness of needing to get away quickly, even though I was the one who'd made the first connection.

So, I resisted the urge and kept walking. Eyed his pump as I walked by and tried to etch an image of his face in my mind for later reference... then got to my office and went inside. Because I was already late.

On the elevator ride up, I regretted not saying hello to this fellow PWD. But I committed to blogging about it. And then I found a cup of coffee and made my way into the meeting. Then had a busy day that didn't allow me to think about the missed D-encounter until getting home that evening.

And that's when I wrote this blog, about my Pump Person sighting from the Streets of Indy. We're apparently everywhere, us PWDs. And that must mean that there's a whole bunch of Nerd Parties of One going on, or we're all destined for the same shin-dig where tackle-hugs are par for the course. (Did some say FFL? Or Simonpalooza?? Adult D-Camp whaaa...???)

Anyhow. I end with a message to you, Mr. Pump-Wearer Who Feeds The Parking Meter on Pennsylvania:

"Sorry we couldn't connect today, but I hope we get that chance again... when neither of us are running late and there isn't a work priority already waiting. Steady BGs your way in the meantime, until the next encounter on the streets of Indy comes our way."