Suffering in silence or silently succeeding?

In this blog post, Jagdeep Singh, UK Partnerships Manager in the Directorate of Student Recruitment & Admissions shares his experience as a member of University staff living with Ballinger-Wallace Syndrome.

For those who don’t know me, I live with Ballinger-Wallace syndrome, a condition that affects both my hearing and my pancreas’s ability to produce insulin. I inject insulin into my abdomen every 60–90 minutes from the moment my kids wake me up at 5 a.m. until both work and parenting have drained every ounce of my energy, and I finally fall asleep. If I’m lucky, I might get 6–8 hours of sleep without needing an injection—or, even worse, without a hypoglycaemic episode. (The remedy for hypos is consuming sugar—not ideal when it’s the middle of the night and you have work the next day.) 

My wife used to think I didn’t listen to her, but it turns out I have bilateral deafness, so jokes on her! Unfortunately, it does mean I can miss up to 20% of what’s said in meetings. Shh … don’t tell the academics who love to talk!

These are just a couple of the challenges I manage daily, but they don’t define me. Rather, they shape the way I work, engage, and interact with the world.

These challenges are invisible to most people. On the surface, it may seem like I’m just like everyone else, but beneath that, I’m constantly adjusting—whether it’s managing my blood sugar or navigating conversations in meetings. Success, for me, isn’t about visible victories or loud accomplishments. It’s in the quiet persistence—showing up, doing the work, and staying engaged despite the hurdles. Actually, that’s a lie—success is hitting the KPIs! (I’ve been told I’m doing that too.)

I’ve found a few hacks along the way, and the people I work with have helped significantly—often without even realising it. I still remember the day Tracy McCoy tapped me on the shoulder at the start of an income growth meeting and pointed out the captions feature in Microsoft Teams. It genuinely changed my working life. Imagine struggling to catch 2 out of every 10 words in a meeting - and then discovering a tool that helps with that!

I’m also grateful to my manager, Angela Hind, who is like a real-life Mary Poppins - constantly checking in to make sure I’ve eaten, haven’t passed out while commuting, or if I’ve lost the will to live due to parenting a 3 and 6 year old.  

In terms of technology, a quick thanks to Jack Clare, who didn’t think twice about ensuring I have the tools I need to create a level playing field and succeed in my role.

Finally, a quick thanks to our Vice-Chancellor, Prof. Ebrahim, who, since first noticing my continuous glucose monitor, always takes a moment to look in my direction and ask if I’m okay at the start of every meeting - probably because I’m sweating profusely at the thought of covertly injecting myself under the table without anyone questioning why I’m revealing my abs in the workplace or, even worse, that a member of SLT might ask me about franchise partnerships, and I mishear and reply that I haven’t been on any recent trips. Yep, that’s happened before.

Living with Ballinger-Wallace syndrome has given me a new perspective on life. I try to appreciate each day and remind myself that every internal and external stakeholder at the University may be facing challenges we can’t see. A thoughtful smile or a quick check-in can go a long way.