Personifying the Pump
More A Sweet Life Aug 18, 2011, 2:58 pm
There were ten in the bed…
Okay, it’s not quite ten in the bed, but it’s not far from that. On a typical night Mike and I share our bed with Adam, the giant baby who still wants to nurse, two cats, and for the last two months we’ve had something else in the bed, too. An insulin pump.
The pump, I think, has officially become part of the family. It’s official because I have begun to personify it. I haven’t named it, but I’ve begun to feel the urge to nurture it like I do the other beings in the bed. When I’m worried about nighttime hypoglycemia, I peek at Mike and tap him to make sure he’s okay. I cover Adam with the sheet when I’m worried he might be cold. I pet the cats when they stick their noses in my face. And when I see that little pump, curled up with Mike, I think (jokingly, of course) that maybe I should give it a tiny pillow, perhaps a “pump blankie.” (Mike, I imagine, thinks of his pump in more masculine terms.)
Since the pump is attached to Mike he – obviously – feels its presence much more than I do. But I am very much aware of the pump. It’s not because it’s bothersome. It’s not because it’s a constant reminder of diabetes. It’s simply because the pump is always with us.
For some families a meal begins with grace or a blessing. In our ho
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- Description: Last night when I lay beside Mike he took off his insulin pump. I turned around to face him, not being careful. I didn't need to be.