Martin - Class Prep

What Diabetes?

Last week I took my medical librarian know-how to the classroom to teach a group of doctors how to find and use medical images for their research and teaching methods. As I was leaning over helping one of them learn how to successfully manipulate an image, I overheard a couple of doctors behind me chatting about me, or more precisely, “that thing on his side.”

I wasn’t mic’d for sound (this time), as the room was plenty small enough and I was able to project my voice plenty loud enough to not need to be wired into the room’s audio. When I overheard them, I didn’t jump right around and whip out my broken pancreas club membership card and secret handshake. Instead, I chose to let them go for a bit. After all, they are doctors and far smarter than I am. Surely they can figure out what that contraption is on my side, right?

They spent only a few moments debating about whether or not it was a wireless microphone, and moved on to the temporary conclusion that it must be the clicker for my PowerPoint presentation. Granted, I was using a PowerPoint clicker, but that was in my hand. I like to imagine I’m a weatherman when I get to use the PowerPoint clicker. Nevertheless, moving on…

Maybe the light hit me just right, or maybe I turned at just the right angle, but finally I heard one of them say, “Oh, that’s an insulin pump. He must have diabetes.” Followed by a pause for consideration. Then one of them said, “That’s impressive.”

Pride. That’s what I felt. Not for me so much, but for those of us who quietly live everyday with diabetes and don’t let it stop us from making a difference in the lives of others. We don’t let it stop us from helping others. We don’t let diabetes stop us from doing anything.

I never had a chance to acknowledge their overheard conversation, but I like to imagine that they went back to their hospital or their practice the next day and told their colleagues about how good of a class they took, and how this charming and incredibly attractive guy kept them engaged, learning, and laughing for a solid two hours. I hope that they got a glimpse of someone with diabetes who was thriving, living, and making a difference in the lives and abilities of others. At that point, I wasn’t a patient, or someone that needed their medical advice, or their prescriptions, or their years of medical education and experience.

I hope that they appreciated that diabetes was there in the room with us, but that it wasn’t in the spotlight. Because I certainly did.

Martin - Class Prep

In the office, getting ready for class.

3 comments

  1. Great post, Martin! Kudos to you for having the patience to wait and see what they said. Usually I just turn around and tell people. It’s nice when D can take the backseat for a while.

  2. What a great post! I really enjoyed hearing how you handled the situation and what the doctors had to say:) Kudos for being so patient.

  3. Great story…Thanks for sharing..Your ability to control the urge to respond to them, and yet say nothing, was in this case, more powerful than words!

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