It was very early last Thursday, and per usual I was a couple of minutes late. This was a slight problem as I had an important meeting in Amsterdam and I could not miss the train! Naturally the pump gave a clog-alarm during breakfast but I figured this was probably a false-alarm as it usually is. I re-start the bolus and quickly bike to the station. The moment I drive off it starts to rain but I don’t have time to grab some gloves so in six minutes time I no longer have any feeling in my hands. With three minutes to spare I am at the station, so far so good!

Luckily I manage to concur the last seat in the crowded train, perhaps this morning isn’t as bad as I initially thought. I decide I will not let a little bit of rain and some stress ruin the morning. The pump vibrates, high-alarm. Shoot, was there really a clog in my tubing? I look around, how on earth am I going to change my site in this train? I am very thankful that today of all days I decided to take an extra site with me, I almost threw it out of my bag again because it was relatively full. We will be at a big station in eight minutes, my guess is that a lot of people will get off the train there resulting in a few moments with lesser people in the train. I decide that I will take that opportunity to change my site, I have a big bag so the people that do remain in the train will not be able to see what I am doing. Usually I am not so shy about my diabetes, I check my bloodsugar for everyone to see and I used to do the same with my injections, but I now feel very self-conscious. Is it that I am now older and have less of the I-don’t-care attitude, or is it because the needle from my site is a lot longer than the needle for my injections?

The voice through the intercoms tells us we will arrive at the station in a few moments. *Stealth modus – on* I sneakily glance at my fellow passengers (two of my seat-mates stand-up to leave and the third is fast asleep),  and remove the plastic wrap from my mio. My bag is in a strategic position and I have draped my jacket over it so most of me and my needle is covered. Very secretly I feel a little like James Bond! We arrive at the station and the people hastily get-off to catch the next train or go to work. *click* in the moment of transition between people leaving the train and getting back on I have changed my site. Despite the odd smell of insulin that lingers the only thing that grabs attention is the beeping of my pump. *Mission accomplished*