Throughout my recent trip, I kept a diary of sorts of some of the diabetes things that happened. Here is a selection of what I noted down.

ON THE KITCHEN BENCH…

…I left all my hypo treatment. Brilliant, Renza. Brilliant. I was reunited with said hypo treatment when Aaron got to NOLA. He took advantage of the situation to snap a pic:

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And of course, he captioned it ‘Snakes on a plane.’ Oh, yes, he did.

ENDOS ON TOUR

The Qantas Lounge at Melbourne Airport was swarming with local endos. As was the Admiral’s Lounge once I got to LAX. If there was ever a time to have a diabetes emergency, this was it!

HIGH WHILE HIGH

Try as I might, I am hopeless at not rage blousing when high. There I was, 30,000 feet above the ground, relatively comfortable after an airline upgrade (and spare seat next to me) and high as a freaking kite.

I had a temp basal set – a very aggressive temp basal rate.  I had done a correction bolus every thirty minutes. And yet, there are double arrows up on my Dex which was pissing me off beyond belief. I eventually did another correction with a syringe and slowly, but surely watched my glucose levels return to a far happier number. Just in time to get off the flight at LAX…

…AND OF COURSE, THEN I WAS LOW…

…which necessitated this:

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I most eloquently ordered it by saying: ‘Can I please have a small iced latte with Half and Half. Because I’m hot and it’s low. Wait…What?…I mean…I’m low and it’s hot…Oh jeez… Can I just have my coffee with Half and Half. Because: HALF AND HALF. I LOVE YOUR COUNTRY.’ (All class. All. Freaking. Class.)

TSA FUN

‘I can’t go through the full body scanner. I’m wearing a couple of medical devices,’ I said politely to the TSA officer as I queued at LAX security. I was tired, felt grotty and getting over my latte-cured low.

‘Well, the wait will be a while,’ he said a little abruptly. ‘It’s very busy.’

‘That’s fine,’ I said. I understand that the palaver of what comes when avoiding the scanner takes extra time and resources. I didn’t appreciate his tone though. Or the follow up comment.

‘You could be waiting a while. You WILL be waiting a while. You could go through the scanner. Or you’ll have to wait,’ he said.

‘That’s not a problem. I can’t go through the scanner – there is a risk my devices will stop working. And then so will I,’ I smiled at him to show that I really wasn’t going to be upset at the wait.

‘Stand over there out of the way. You know you’ll have to wait, right?’ I’m glad he mentioned it again, in case I had missed it the previous times.

I didn’t ask for this condition and I certainly don’t ask for the extra degrees of difficulty it often attracts. Equally, I don’t demand special attention and am prepared to wait and deal with whatever I need to do to.  So I really hate to be made to feel that I am deliberately putting someone out.

As it turned out, I didn’t have to wait too long. A mere three minutes after the call for a ‘female opt out officer’, a lovely TSA official beckoned me to the pat down area and kindly explained the process. I nodded and pointed out where I was wearing my pump and Dex and stood there while she did her thing. And then thanked her and was on my way.

MY ARM KEPT GETTING PAPPED

When you decide to pimp your Dexcom sensor and transmitter in Melbourne while the weather is cold, necessitating long sleeves, you don’t necessarily think about what that will mean once you get to far sunnier climes and are bare armed all the time.

My arm became a mini-celebrity at the conference with complete strangers coming up and commenting and asking if they could take a photo.

(No idea what I'm pointing at...)

(No idea what I’m pointing at…)

Hopefully the lovely folks at RockaDex will see some benefit – I was promoting you guys like you wouldn’t believe! (Yes, they post ANYWHERE!)

THE WAITRESS AT THE DIABETES EVENT

At the end of the fabulous Musings Under the Moonlight event, hosted by diaTribe, a few of us gathered our things and decided that a late night Café du Monde visit was necessary. And as we walked out the door, I was stopped by one of the waitresses. ‘Excuse me, Ma’am,’ she said (because everyone is either Ma’am, Sir or Miss). ‘Can I ask you about the tape around your Dexcom. My daughter has diabetes and is a swimmer. Her Dexcom tape is always coming loose. Maybe this will help it stay on longer.’

I grabbed a pen and wrote down the details of RockaDex and told her how terrific it is. (I am absolutely not on their books, a part owner or even get free supplies. It’s just great stuff!)

‘Can you imagine?’ said Scott. ‘Her mind must have been blown being in that room tonight!

Always – ALWAYS! – love a bit of diabetes in the wild!

NPH ON CROSBY STREET

Walking back to our hotel on Crosby Street in SoHo, I looked up and saw this pasted to a wall:

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And my day was made. (Check out Appleton Artworks for more of their diabetes awareness raising street art.)

‘IT’S FOR THE KID. THE OTHER THINGS ARE FOR YOU…’

One of my favourite diabetes people, gorgeous Alecia, lives in NY and one of my favourite things to do in NY is see her. We met for lunch in Murray Hill at Penelope’s and she handed me a Kate Spade bag.

I peered inside and excitedly pulled out a pink box with familiar writing on it. ‘That’s for the kid,’ I was told in no uncertain terms. She was referring to the American Girl Diabetes Kit and I actually squealed when I opened the box and gently pulled out all the teeny tiny pieces.

Sorry hon – I kept the American Girl diabetes set. The kidlet is still trying to convince me to give her the pencil case and I am desperately resisting. But the candle – that’s on my windowsill at work making me think of you.


AND FINALLY…

If you need to have a hypo in NY, this is probably the best place to do it:

The Nutella Bar at Eataly.

The Nutella Bar at Eataly.