2 days ago, I had an encounter with the diabetes police. Well, it was a cross between a diabetes police officer, an ignorant person, a know-it-all and a stubborn person. (I’m just referring to one -actual- person).
I work in the same house as her (I live and work in a community of people with and without learning disabilities, which is set up as a set of houses), which means I see her 5 or 6 days a week, and we eat around 10 meals a week together. Every meal time, I test my blood sugar at the dinner table (point being: she has definitely seen me test my blood). A couple of days ago, I was doing my 2 hour post meal test.
“WHAT IS THAT?!” she yelped.
“I’m diabetic, it’s my blood testing kit,” I replied.
“Oh, my mother has the diabetes. How often do you do that test? Every couple of weeks?” (bear in mind we have been working together for just over 2 months). In steps another of my colleagues –
“Er, no, we see her do that every meal time?”
“Well, my mother only tested every 2 weeks.” (inner eye roll from me.)
“Was your mum a type 2?”
“Yes, she had it for 5 years and then it went away.”
The woman in question is from a different country, so I have no idea what type of diabetes education and treatment they have. But I get the feeling this is more her know-it-all thing, rather than a case of just genuinely not knowing.
“So you just don’t eat sugar?” she continued.
“That’s a bit of a myth...as long as I know what I’m eating, I can eat anything I like.”
The worst thing was, she came over and tried to look at my test result. Back off, lady. That result is mine, and mine alone.