When I travel, I don't mind doing my vest in the hotel room with close family, or in the living room with family members I know very well. In Minnesota, no one bats an eye. My family there is used to the unusual. They're so used to it, that the usual is unusual to them. No one awkwardly stares at me while I'm doing my treatments, or gets uncomfortably close to me while I'm stuck to a 40 pound machine for a half-hour. Sometimes I purposefully lean against the table to mildly irritate my family members, but otherwise everyone pretty much ignores it. Sometimes my family uses my vest machine like a mini table. I don't mind them using it to set down their their drinks and/or newspapers, especially since I set down my own drinks and stuff on it sometimes, but I do mind when they use it as a footrest for their gross, sweaty feet. I'm glad disinfectant wipes are a thing.
It's different when I go see family in Seattle or North Dakota. I'm not as close to those family members, and those family members aren't so used to unusual illness like the family in Minnesota is. They didn't have grandpa Bob to take care of, unlike family in Minnesota. And they certainly didn't have someone as screwed up as me to take care of. My great-aunt-in-law has some health issues, and she takes care of her sister who has some mental problems, but none of those issues equate to mine.
My great-aunt tends to overshare her illnesses and medical experiences with me, thinking that because I'm so used to medical issues, I would be a great person to talk to about it. Unfortunately for her, just because I have CF, it doesn't mean I'm an expert in the whole medical field. And I really don't like to talk about it as deeply as my aunt has asked me to in the past. I only talk about it that deeply with people who have lived through it with me. I love my great-aunt, but she wasn't there to see what I went through, and her back problems and her sister's needs aren't anything like what I have.
Many of my family members in North Dakota and Seattle are afraid to touch my treatments. They think they're very fragile and will break very easily. Like I said before, my vest machine is basically indestructible. I've had it for almost 14 years now. I've blown the wires inside it twice, taken it all over the world, and toss it around in its bag like a bale of hay. I use it as a seat sometimes, and usually set my drinks down on it when it's not turned on. I would say if it's very fragile, and I tell them it's ok to move it around without my permission, as long as they tell me where they put it. But, of course, they aren't sure what to do with it, and are way more protective of it than I am, so I know it won't move unless either me or my mom moves it.
My younger cousins in Seattle are actually afraid of my vest. It's loud, big, and definitely strange, so I don't feel bad when my younger Seattle cousins hide behind my aunts' and uncles' backs, or just avoid the room I'm in completely. Little kids aren't very fond of the big and loud unless they were raised around it. Dogs are also afraid of my treatments, unless they're my own, and are used to the unusual.
In North Dakota, I'm lucky enough to have a whole house to myself when I'm doing my treatments. My grandparents are used to it, so they usually ignore it. But my great aunts and uncles aren't exactly sure how to react, and usually go to my grandparents to ask questions about it, since they can't understand me while I'm hooked up.
They've dealt with serious illnesses in their life too. Family members I've never met have been afflicted with serious and deadly diseases. But, I'm a survivor, and I also have way more treatments and pills than those distant relatives I never got to know. My great aunts and uncles there respect my space. I have my own little designated corner at the dining table in the old farmhouse, which is never disturbed while I'm staying there.
