When to tell.

As a parent of a child with Type 1 diabetes I am regularly left wondering when I should tell new people about my son’s diabetes. It may seem like a non issue, but I learned this summer that it obviously is an issue to me.

Not my son’s diabetes, of course, that is not an issue for me (or him) at all. When he received his first shipment of insulin from the UPS driver, my then 4 year old said to him, “That’s for me. I have type 1 diabetes. I need this insulin because my pancreas doesn’t make it anymore.” I wish I had a camera to savor the expression on the UPS driver’s face. It was an interesting combination of confusion, awe and discomfort.

I am not really talking about who to tell, why to tell, but more specifically when to tell. Obviously for safety purposes I immediately tell any parent of any child my son might be playing with at that time. At the pool my son played with many different kids, so I would make a point to tell the moms that if my son started acting ‘funny’ that someone should come and get me. I was never far from my son, ever, but it still gave a a tiny sense of peace knowing if their child came to them to tell them my son was acting funny they would know to come to me.

No, I am talking about the first time we meet someone. Especially someone that I think I am going to know for a while. Say a mom in my son’s class. Whether I plan on becoming friends with the person is not an issue, but if we are going to see each other around school, I wonder when I should tell them.

The main reason I am hesitant to tell new people about my son’s diabetes is the questions and comments. I have to be in the right mind to handle all that comes with me telling that my son has Type 1 diabetes. I have to be ready to hear about the grandfather that lost his leg from diabetes, or the old man across the street that is blind from diabetes (always Type 2 I might add).

I also have to be ready to hear how awful it must be that he can’t ever have cake on his birthday (even though that is soooo far from the truth), or the question of whether he got diabetes because he drank too much juice as a baby (never had it once).

I can usually handle about 3 0r 4 of these stories and untruths before I unfold the soapbox that I carry around in my bag. I have a short little speech, about 4 minutes, that quickly explains Type 1 diabetes. I also explain how it is so very different from Type 2. I usually conclude with a quick lesson on carb counting.

This is why I always wonder when to tell. I have to be ready to tell, because I have to be willing to give the speech. I cannot think of one time when I told about  my son’s diabetes that I did not have to give the speech. And the speech usually takes place 2 or 3 times in a row because I have to go back to the beginning as new people meander over to my area. Believe me, I have been there and done that as they say. I told the speech at the Holiday Bizarre, Field Day, class parties and birthday parties just this past school year alone.

Don’t get me wrong, I love giving the speech. And it’s a pretty darn good one at that. People have applauded at the end of it. I love educating people about Type 1 diabetes. I just know the speech is going to come out rather quickly after telling about my son’s diabetes, so that is why I have to decide when to tell.

So when you see me sitting alone with my kids at the pool, it is not because we don’t like others to sit with us, we do. It’s just that I try to keep my soapbox in the bottom of my pool bag under the sunscreen. I decide when to tell people about my son’s diabetes based on whether I want that soapbox out or not. It eventually comes out, of course, but I have learned that there is no rush.