Shhh... I'm on the Phone!

Site changes (see Diabetes Terminology).  Dislike them?  No, I don’t dislike them at all.  I despise them.  Despise them.  Now I know that there’s no one who would ever like to get poked in the behind, the thigh, the stomach, or the arm, but I just hate them, hate them, hate them.  Today I had to do a site change, waste fifteen minutes of my day, just because my stupid little pancreas doesn’t work.  Why did it decide, out of nowhere, to be a lazy, little bum?  Whatever.  There’s nothing I can do about it.

So here’s one of those entertaining diabetes stories that I had to sadly go through in 6^th grade.  To start off, you should know that there were many supervisors that were out patrolling my school during snack break and lunchtime.  So, it was just like any other day. My class was let out for lunch, and after testing my blood sugar at my desk a few minutes previous, I went outside to do what it is I’d been doing since third grade.  I pulled out my cell phone and began calling my mom.  Even though I had a meeting at the beginning of the year with the principal, okaying my cell phone use at snack and at lunch, many people have commented to me that I shouldn’t be using my cell phone.  A boy who is “popular” (I put in quotes because he is as nice as a mountain lion hunting for its prey) told me I was breaking the rules.  You would know a lot about that, now wouldn’t you, I thought to myself, a smirk on my face.  I didn’t say that aloud though.  There are many things I keep to myself.

But this trouble-maker wasn’t the only person I had to face during my phone call.  As I was in the middle of telling my mom my blood sugar reading, a supervisor walked up to me.  I could just feel her happiness in finding someone to take to the office for using a cell phone during school hours.  It was, I have to say, sort of emanating off her.  She had her serious face on while she said, “You aren’t allowed to be using your phone during school hours.”

Did she think I didn’t know that?  They go over it every single year for as long as I can remember.  Did she think a straight A student like me was some kind of idiot just craving for some kind of trouble to get into?  Really.  But I didn’t say any of that.  I used what I call my “filter” and decided I probably would get into trouble just for saying that, not even including the cell phone use.

My filter served its purpose and held on tight to my nasty words, instead forcing my body to do the usual flash of my medical ID which has my type 1 written cleanly and explicitly right on the top.  “I have Type 1 Diabetes and I have to call my mom at lunch time,” I recited by heart, knowing what it is I have to say to get the person to go away and let me carry on.  I put the phone back to my ear and told my mother what had just happened, that it was fine and we could continue.  Shoot.  I look up and the crazy woman is still there.  Okay, fine.  Some people have stayed for a second explanation.  That’s normal.  I can still get rid of her.

“You can’t use your cell phone during school hours,” this broken record told me once again.

Keep it together, Erin.  The last thing you want to do is get someone like this on your bad side, even if you aren’t doing anything wrong.  I swallowed my preferred words and instead squeezed out, “I’m sorry.  I’m aware of that, but I have principal’s permission to use my cell phone during school hours due to my diabetes.”  I flashed my medical ID to her once again, hoping the second time was the charm.  I held it there just a little bit longer, giving her the benefit of doubt, thinking she might just have bad eyes and can’t read that fast.  I can’t help it that she’s old…  Okay, that was nasty.  Swallow your words, Erin.  Swallow your words.

Even with my SECOND and LONGER showing of my medical ID, the woman persisted on telling me that my phone wasn’t allowed on campus.  Yes, lady, I heard you.  My ears were already checked last month.  I’m certifiably not deaf.  My ears work!  It’s just my pancreas that doesn’t, I thought to myself, not aloud, not to her.

“Yeah,” I said.  “I understood that the first time, however my family and I had a meeting with the principal and he clearly said that I can call my mom…”  I looked at the woman, saw her face, and realized I needed some more ammunition to get through to this woman.  “Um…”  I fished through my brain, trying to figure out what I should say to her.  “My mom is on the phone, would you like to talk to her?”  As soon as I asked her this, her face fell.  It seemed to me that she freaked out once I asked her, like if she said yes, she wouldn’t know what to say.

Because of her worry, she instead said, “Well, you have to go to the office.  Now.”

“But I have the principal’s permission-“

“You have to go to the office, now.”

“Excuse me, but can I just tell you my name and you can go up to the office and ask them if I’m allowed to be using my cell phone?  It’s Erin.”  She just stared at me…for a very long time…and kept staring…and it made me really uncomfortable.  I stared back, and then finally repeated myself, “My name is Erin.  You can go and ask them if I am allowed to use my phone.”  She then stared at me once again, just stared, and stared, and stared.

“Well,” she said quietly, and then walked off.

I should have just put my phone away, like the woman would have wanted, or went to the office with her to show her I was telling the truth.  But I didn’t do any of that.  I went right back to my phone call and told my mom all that had happened and why that woman was such a meanie-pants. J