Why did the insulin die in my pancreas?

I have just returned from getting Lance’s strips/lancets etc.

The pharmacy that I frequent know me extremely well, as they do Lance. The staff are practically like family, they know what type of glucometer we have, they will always stop to have a kind word regarding Lance’s health.

Today, I left wanting to be sick.

An obvious newbie stood behind the counter, staring at me, smiling so hard I could see the tendons in her neck stretching. I approached her in an overtly laidback manner, to try and allieviate her obvious anxiety,

“So, can I ask you about NDSS stuff?”

“Sure! I’ve just had a huge run through with a drug company rep. This will be good actually, help re-inforce what I have just learnt!’

I was so impressed with her glowing enthusiasm! She started entering Lance’s details into the computer.

As quick as a flash, the most senior of the counter staff sashayed hurriedly towards us, with a look of concern and pity on her face.

I was feeling really alarmed. What..is..going ..on..here?

“Ahhhh Jodie, no, no, this woman, no. She’s one of the ones’ with a little diabetic. I’ll handle her.”

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

I stared her straight in the eye.  I could feel rage rising upwards, similiar to the feeling of bringing up bile from the pit of ones’ stomach.

“I’d actually prefer Jodie to serve me today, thanks.”

(Poor Jodie..my silent fury had totally freaked her out…)

“Oh well it’s just best that she sees a transaction for the diabetics.  Little ones with a touch of sugar are a bit different to the adults.”

Huh?

What does that sentence MEAN exactly?

Let’s look at it again.

“Little ones with a touch of sugar are a bit different to the adults.”

I was so angry that hot tears stung my eyelids. Maybe I was wildly hormonal, and I will read this in a few weeks and laugh, but today, my son’s condition being referred to as “a touch of sugar” and being treated as a huge problem was something that I really didn’t want to hear, considering that I had just dealt with a 2.1mmol/L hypo-(I personally think Lance was lower, as he couldn’t hold up his own bodyweight..) and was consequently late for my meeting with the Insulin Pump Rep. (She was kind enough not to comment on the strands of my hair that were cogealing together with carbonated sugar. Yep. Lance did a projectile lemonade spit at me, and I was unprepared. Really unprepared. Coulda sworn he swallowed it…but no…drenched my hair instead..)

As a result, I was just a touch frosty. I grabbed my strips. handed over the money and sauntered out.

Type 1 Diabetic.

Juvenile Diabetic.

Sugar Diabetic.

A Touch of Sugar.

“Diabetic-the worst kind.”

Little Diabetic.

I ache for my gorgeous son to be called just by the name I gave him, not recognised because of the fact he’s happens to have Type 1 Diabetes.

Some days I don’t care and laugh it off or roll my eyes, but today…I had had enough.

I had a touch of hatred towards Diabetes again today-everything about each minute of it has revolved around this condition.

Too tired to comment anymore.

A TOUCH OF SUGAR??? WHO SAYS THAT!!!!!