My first ever in fact. But sometimes, there’s more to life than diabetes (yes, really).
Many of you will not care much for the premise of this post.
Which is… (drum roll please…)
My Little Pony.
Yep, that’s what I said.
When I was a wee nipper, My Little Pony, or “My my Little Pony” as I apparently used to call it, full on rocked my world. It was the be all and end all of my day. Such were the days before I was pushed, without choice, into the vortex of Type 1, before boys, booze and parties, and all I had to worry about was whether the day’s outfit was tucked into my nappy, and whether or not it out-pinked the outfit from the day before (yes, I was one of THOSE girls).
So imagine my delight when I went to a bar on Monday evening, excused myself to take a trip to the toilet and was greeted with a bog decorated top-to-bottom with the following:
Flashback to 1990, anyone?
Yes, incase you’re wondering, that IS a mid-pee pic. And this, my friends made my day. Never mind that I was in a secret bar, the door to which was through a Smeg fridge hidden inside a cafe (hello, London) and that I was enjoying a rather exquisite cocktail which would make anyone’s Monday a Happy one – capital H and everything. Yes, I know I’m on January Banuary, it’s ok, it was gin-based with soda, and I only had one. The surroundings demanded such behaviour.
My Little Pony based excitement and yummy Monday cocktailing aside, said January Banuary is actually going okay. Except the slight issue that my world really does revolve around food (I work hard to be size 12 y’know!) and the carb ban has led to (some would say inevitable) dreams of potato wedges and the like. Don’t get me wrong, I’m eating stupendously, but the frequency with which I eat an egg-based lunch is now a running joke in the office.
And there’s a *minor* (read: bloody-jeffing-humungous) hurdle on the horizon. I’m going to Dublin this weekend. Yes, the land of the potato, and cold weather, and alcohol, all of which points to a rather insulin-laden couple of days. Am I going to lay off the aforementioned devil-to-the-diabetic food? Well, unlikely. Am I going to worry about it? Of course not, I’ll just shoot up a big wallop of extra insulin and carry on my merry way. It’s only a 24 hour trip so how much damage can I possibly do? But there are other concerns. Airport control with a bag full of needles for instance, THAT is another matter entirely. Long gone are the days when all I had to take through the scanner was my My Little Pony, because my Mum had packed all my clothes and actually, I wasn’t even diabetic yet. Now it’s all doctor’s note this, clear plastic bag that. Oh the fun times of a diabetic. And so it seems my first non-diabetes related post has limply plodded into something about diabetes. Although if you can deduce the actual point of this post, diabetes-related or not, then let me know. I best be on my merry way, I’ve got a date with Ryanair to prepare for. Yeuch.
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