To my Coworker Who Tells me Not to Inject Insulin in Front of Her.

"Ugh! Lacy! You know better than to do that in front of me."

I stare at my coworker from across the office. Our office is more of a closet, really, small and cramped. It fits about 3 or 4 people comfortably. It's where we eat lunch, do notes, or take a break from the crowded and hectic gym. It's where I keep my insulin. It's where I give injections when I eat my meals so that other people don't see me, or so I don't have to do it in the hall or gym, both more considerably open places.
I love my coworkers, but there's one who is very vocal about how she doesn't like needles. At all. I don't really know what to say to her. Do I feel bad and go somewhere else, inconveniencing myself so that she is comfortable, because she is my friend? Do I ignore her? Do I keep turning around into the corner and inject facing the wall when she isn't looking? In public, were it a stranger, I feel that I would act differently. Perhaps I might say something, as I've done in the past. When it's someone I know, I don't know how to tell her that this hurts my feelings and make her hear me. This has gone on for a year. A year of "Ewws!", and "Eek! You didn't tell me you were doing that", and, "You know better than to do that in front of me!", and, "Ugh, even though you're turned around I still know you're doing it, and it makes me shudder."

I flashback to a moment I remember vividly in my undergraduate years. I stood in the middle of the admissions office, where I worked as a work study student. I gave an insulin shot in front of my boss, whom I was relatively close to.
"Why do you always look away when you give insulin shots?" She asked me.
I hadn't realized I did that. I shrugged. "I guess I'm kind of self conscious about what people think. They think it's weird. They don't like it. Some people tell me so."
She looked me in the eyes. "Don't feel like you have to look away," She told me. "This is something you have to do to live. That's nothing to ever be ashamed of."

I remember this moment, and I look back at her, and I say sorry. And then I say, "Wait, why am I apologizing? This is my pancreas."

It's not a huge deal, in the grand scheme of things. My coworker is harmless. She doesn't mean to be hurtful. I find it funny, working in a nursing home with a lot of "gross" things, and this is what grosses her out. My needles. But I think that it makes me sad, still. My Diabetes has always been a wedge of misunderstanding between myself and other people. Waitresses will joke that I don't need diet coke. People will comment that I obsess over carbs too much if I'm discussing it with someone as I'm ordering without realizing why. I'll pay extra at a restaurant to get extra vegetables instead of loads of rice and noodles and people will think I'm picky. Diabetic dietary restrictions are tricky - they're not as clear cut as vegan or gluten free. If you're those things, people seem to understand more. If you're trying to eat low carb, an imprecise art that does help with managing blood sugar levels, people find you, at times, unreasonable and difficult. People tell me they don't know how they could ever be diabetic because they hate needles too much. I guess those people would die, as I would have if I hadn't overcome my severe phobia of needles at the time of my diagnosis.
My Diabetes has always made me someone that people stare at if I inject in a restaurant. I cover my glucose monitor screen as waiters and waitresses will nosily look over my shoulder as I check my levels, curious as to what the machine is. These things feel private, and yet they're also a part of my day to day life that I sometimes don't even stop to think about. Like pulling out a phone or putting on chapstick. But I still feel eyes on me. My husband and I were at a restaurant about a month ago, and I gave insulin while sitting next to a group of two guys and a girl about our age. After giving the first shot, the two guys stared at me while they didn't think I was watching. I saw them out of the corner of my eye. They kept glancing at me, and it made me self conscious. They all whispered amongst themselves. When my food came out, they glanced it up and down, then glanced back at me, as if weighing whether or not I could be eating what I ordered. I wanted to say something, but I also didn't want to start that kind of a conversation when I was trying to enjoy time with my husband.

I feel as though I can't complain about these kind of things, because I don't go give insulin shots in private. But going to the bathroom just to give insulin shots when in public is something I liken a little bit to someone asking you to eat your meals in the bathroom. Something that is a little bit gross and a little bit of an inconvenience. I think that Type 1 is enough to suffer through on its own, without the added stress of judgement from others for what we have to do to survive. I don't blame human nature's need to be curious, and I encourage that. I welcome questions. But I wish that you would see that I'm just trying to stay alive like we all are. I'm just having to do a little extra to achieve that each day. And I wish that you might see my injections through that lens, instead of through one of a gross needle in my skin. I don't like it anymore than you do. I don't want to be an inconvenience to you if you don't like needles. I don't want to make you cringe. The truth is, sometimes it makes me cringe, too. Because it hurts. It hurts me to know that this is what I have to do every day now. It physically hurts because of the fact that needles hurt. It hurts when they bruise. It hurts when the insulin stings. I don't want to make a show, or get your attention. That's not why I'm doing it. I'm just doing what I have to do to survive.