Insulin Pump Nightmare – Just a Dream or Scared to Use the Pump?


In a few hours, I’ll be leaving to meet with Ellen, my insulin pump instructor.  Today is the day of my one-on-one class.  It’s strange to think that I’ll be going to bed tonight wearing an insulin pump.  It’s apparently so strange in fact that I had a rather off-the-wall dream last night.

I dreamt that my grandma, who used to wear a hearing aid, became trapped inside of it.  However, in my nightmare her device ended up looking more like a pager/insulin pump/toy car than a hearing aid.

In the beginning of the dream, my grandma was fine and my mom, my grandma, my dad and I were on our way to the local cinema to see a movie (before she passed away my mom used to take my grandma  to the movies regularly and I would sometimes tag along).  We walked into the crowded theater and we took our seats near the front.  After the movie began, it didn’t take long for us to realize that it was in 3D, only we didn’t need 3D glasses and it was much more like a 3D rollercoaster ride at Universal Studios than an everyday movie at the local theater.

I was sitting next to my grandma, worried that what was unfolding on the screen in front of us might be too much for her.  After all, she was in her eighties.  She said that she was okay but I was still worried.  Scene after heart-pounding scene unfolded without reprieve.  The theater had become a rip-roaring rollercoaster that was racing through dense jungles with artificial leaves and dangling vines that were lashing off our fear-frozen faces.

I knew the film’s concoction of terror and excitement was becoming too much for my grandma.  As the scenes intensified, suddenly my grandma was no longer sitting next to me, and my mom, who is more than a bit motion sensitive, had already gotten up to exit the theater.  I looked down and I was holding my grandma’s hearing aid in my hand.  However, it now looked more like a pager/insulin pump.  I could hear her voice coming from inside of it.  She had become trapped in her device.  I tried to yell to her, “Grandma, are you okay?!” At that moment, our section of the theater started to lift up in the air as if it were on some kind of hydraulic platform.  The movie’s big coaster finale was about to begin.

Fearing for my grandma’s life, I turned, scrambled over a row of seats and leaped off the platform into the aisle.  Just then, I could hear the hydraulic system behind me starting to go wild.  I looked back and saw that ushers were now standing on the back of the moving platform to make sure everyone else stayed in their seats.  Carrying my grandma, I caught up to my mom and dad in front of me and we headed out of the theater.

As we walked through the lobby, some of the employees had begun throwing souvenirs our way for “surviving the ride.”  Not seeing one coming, a small souvenir pillow of some sort knocked the device that contained my grandma out of my hand.  It hit the ground and broke into two pieces like a fragile plastic toy.  My heart pounding, I picked up each piece to put it back together.  I could hear my grandma yelling from inside, “I’m okay!  Don’t worry, I’m okay!”  As we walked across the parking lot, my grandma, now part of the device she once wore, yelled to me from inside its walls, “We didn’t have to leave the movie.  I was fine.”

In conclusion, I realize that my dream / nightmare sounds a little odd and a bit silly, but I also know that there are likely various truths hidden between the frames of my subconscious storytelling.  Who knows what tonight will bring when I’ll actually be tethered to the pump, so to speak.  Or what about the night after my second class on Thursday when I’ll also be wearing my continuous glucose monitor (CGM)?  I realize that when life’s circumstances bring about a prescription for change, it is often accompanied by a mild dose of trepidation, even if it is somewhat hidden beneath the surface.

Leave a Reply