Tag: anxiety cw

Yes, anxiety, now’s a great time to have the…at this point it’s probably more than bi-annual (because of course it is 😐 ) “what are you going to do with your life?” session that involves many side aspects such as wanting to leave the area so that I can have a fresh start somewhere where I’m not balancing trying to be me with dealing with the expectations of Way Too Many People Who Know My Family; minorly despairing over how many times the people in the college of ed repeat that “education is a conservative field” when I’d like nothing better than to wear a tie as often as I felt like wearing a shirt a tie could be worn with; needing a job that will either give me insurance or enough $$ for me to cover in on my own, because diabetes without insurance is not something I can do, and I don’t trust any governor of any state I might end up in to necessarily have been a decent human being who expanded Medicaid to people who are over 18 and who don’t have kids (because my shithead of a hypocritical moralist governor naturally didn’t expand it in AL).

In other news, really glad that I’m seeing a psychiatrist next week to talk meds and see what might work better for me. I’d like that “one brief shining moment” of wonderfulness that I briefly had when starting escitalopram back.

The first time I flew after being diagnosed, we were headed from Seattle to Iceland. We got a letter from my doctor to say that everything in my medical bag was OK for me to have, but the TSA people wouldn’t have it. They didn’t even want to see the note. They took my (extremely tightly and precariously packed) bag and literally dumped it out on the counter. They wanted to sift through it, but they weren’t even being careful. Stuff was falling on the floor. It’s a miracle that bottle of humalog didn’t break. When my mom started questioning them and demanding they treat my stuff with more care, we both got searched and patted down. Real fun for 11 year old me to feel like a criminal for having a disease. It’s been 4.5 years, and I haven’t flown in a plane since that trip.

(via mydiabetessecret)

This sort of thing is what I’ve been afraid of happening every time I’ve gone through air port security. Like, I show them allllll the meds and explain the diabetes (and get my pump swabbed for…whatever they swab for)…but it seriously cranks my anxiety up way past eleven. Just thinking about air port security sends my heart rate up.

The anxiety and great desire to repack my 85% medication carry-on resulted in me almost leaving my laptop behind on my first ever flight (yay for having a luggage tag on its case) and forgetting to put my glucose tabs in my pocket on the first leg of my second big trip, which resulted in my first ever cold sweat low (I got orange juice from flight attendant, but had to get more and crackers because the first juice only got it up into the 60s–I didn’t bother to check once the cold sweat hit, I just hit the ‘call attendant’ button) because, lol, running from one end of an airport to another is so far out of the range of my normal activity that I forgot I should count it as exercise and not bolus likely I normally would when I ate pizza.