Timing is Everything

Mass was about to start, so I turned down the volume on my iPhone and silenced it. I slid it into the handy pocket on my thigh of my new capris. Every once in awhile, I slid the phone out and checked William's blood glucose. It was still good. William was home sick with a mild stomach ache and no other symptoms. Something he ate? Appendix problems developing? A virus?  A chance to sleep in? (Turns out it was a virus.) There was no way to know and only time would tell. With BG monitoring technology and only 2 miles away, I deemed it safe enough to leave him at home alone while we went to Church.

Yet, I was concerned, as any MOD (Mother of Diabetic) would be. If he were to throw up, a crisis could develop rather quickly. My Pebble watch which normally displays his BG at a glance and notifies me if he texts, was not working. And so, I pulled out my phone periodically to check the "Follow" app displaying his BG.

Midway through, the deacon stood at the ambo, trying to make sense of the readings exhorting us to leave our families to become a true disciple (Luke 14:25-33). "Did God truly want us to hate our fathers and mothers, our wife and children, ourselves?" I'm not quite sure what he concluded. As the homily came to a close, he turned to go back to his seat, and it was deadly silent in our large, cavernous Church. I - unwisely - felt for my phone to check on William.

"SORRY, I'M NOT SURE WHAT YOU SAID" echoed around the walls of the Church. Somehow, without meaning to, I had wakened Siri. Why was she not silent?? My phone sounds were off!!?!! Mortified, I tried to silence her, but too late. I heard simultaneously a collective gasp and laughter from the congregation.

Oh, but, maybe no one would know it was you, you might say. No, see, we sit off in a section nearly by ourselves. During flu and virus season, there are less chances of having a really sick person sit behind us, having to exchange a handshake with someone that just sneezed into that hand. Getting the flu or a virus, can be serious now. So there we were, on display, so to speak. The timing could not have been worse.

We could have maybe pretended we didn't know who just did that, except my husband turned the purple color of his shirt and put his face in his hands. He could not fit under the pew, so that was the closest he could come to hiding.

This is one of those stories that will be passed down to my grandchildren, I have no doubt. I hope I lightened the day for those that laughed. I hope those that gasped can forgive me. I walked out with my head high though. I will protect my T1D warrior at all costs. And Siri, you bitch, I'm turning you off.