Please Play Nice

Our driving experiences bring us together, typically twice a day. Sometimes more.

Insulin Pump: you stay fastened on my belt-line, keeping up my insulin fix as we travel along. You occasionally get to move around and escape that plastic holster, in times of coffee-bolusing or minor comfort-adjusting. That usually lets you brandish that tubing around with reckless abandon, and that’s a concern.

Seatbelt: the law tells me that you must stop hanging around when I’m behind the wheel. That means you have to get all clickety-snuggly in that slot to secure my safety, and usually equates to sharing personal space with Said Insulin Pump.

Obviously, I’m right there with you both. The Diabetic Driver who gets stuck in the middle as you try to wrap yourselves around me with care, all in the name of simultaneous driving and blood sugar safety.

I know. Things can get confusing, when we’re all jumbled together. Especially when we’re Already Running Late.

But you two must co-exist. There’ll be no tangle-dancing or knot-attempts, OK?

We aren’t rocking in tubeless patch pump world. And no magnet attaches my butt to the seat. It is what it is, and I need you both to recognize the pitfalls we can encounter on these regular rides.

No rough-housing, like we’ve had before. The kind that’s led to mass confusion and insulin set sacrifices. We’re in this together, and that means respecting boundaries.

So please, play nice.

And I promise to do my best in getting us to where we’re going.

Thank you, kindly.