PWD Seeks DWPs (Dresses with Pockets)

Like tons of other DOC folks, my first foray into the Magical Internet world of People With Diabetes came as I sought the answer to one crucial question: How the Hell Do I Wear This Pancreas on a String With a Dress?

And though, fortunately, that question brought me to Six Until Me, I’ve still not found the answer I’ve been looking for. When I got married, I used some kind of Velcro thigh contraption to hold my pump, and spent the last 3 hours of my reception hiking the thing up. In the winter, I turn to Spanx to keep my guts — and my MiniMed Paradigm 712 — in check. They work well.

But now? Now it’s practically summer in Florida, and I’m at a loss. I tried to sport the Spanx-and-Sundress combo at the local Farmers Market last Saturday, and was thisclose to stopping in front of the strawberry stand to rip the things off, Incredible Hulk-style. I’ve spent the last 10 summers in capri pants and jeans (I kind of hate shorts, for the most part), and I’m not going to do it again.

Of course, the ol’ Pump-Between-the-Boobs trick is always available, but the outcome is always highly dependent on the style of the dress and how comfortable I am materializing a piece of equipment from my cleavage every half-hour or so.

I was thumbing through the latest Land’s End catalog at my in-laws’ place just the next day, and was super-excited about a couple of pocket-y skirts and dresses. Right now I’ve got this number in my cart, and want this for my birthday.

In the meantime, is there anything else I can do? Will I ever be able to run through a field of waist-high sunflowers in a breezy white number, my hair blowing in the fragrant breeze and my husband waiting to embrace me in the soft-focus sunshine, carefree? Can I at least sit on a porch in mid-June and bolus for a Sierra Nevada without having to dig between my boobs first?

I know it’s not a new concern, but it’s what’s on my mind lately when it comes to summer dresses. Well, that and my ongoing phobia of exposing my upper arms — but that’s another story for another day.