“Do you need to bolus for this?” Brad whispered in my ear as the communion plates were passed down the pew.
It was my first Easter with type 1 diabetes and I was still pretty new to OmniPod. Easter fell on an arm-pod day so I threw on a cardigan to cover the pod (not something I would worry about now) for the Easter Sunday service at my husband’s family church.
I was so conscious of the pod on my arm. So aware of the lump in my sweater sleeve, concerned about the clack that it made when I bumped it on the pew. When communion came around, I chose not to bolus. The decision was made primarily due to what I believe would be disruptive beeping from my pod and partly because I had no idea how many carbs were in the symbolic body and blood of Christ.
Now, I truly don’t care if I beep during church. Don’t mind if people see my pump, I might even match it to my dress like last year. I will bolus for communion if I feel I need to. But honestly, some of the religious rituals that we observe are made more complicated due to living with a medical condition, such as diabetes or Celiac disease. (Typically communion wafers or bread are not gluten free.)
I still fear a pod failing in church and emitting the ear-piercing screech during the quiet moments of spiritual reflection. I worry that my Dexcom will alert during prayer. I don’t want my medical problems to impact the worship of others, but I also need to care for the body I’ve been given and care less about the judgement from others (i.e. the concern that people think I’m texting when I’m really bolusing).
At the end of the day, God knows better than I even do what’s going on in my body and what my needs are, so regardless of whether everyone else understands, He does.