Blaming Diabetes For My Bad Day

I had a terrible day on Friday, and for the first time in a long time, I found myself blaming diabetes for it.

I touched back down on my home turf late on Thursday, exhausted. I got home and unpacked most of the clutter from my hand luggage. My diabetes supplies, headphones, cables, laptop, glasses, Krispy Kreme donuts, Diabetic Living magazine, BridgeClimb certificate and toiletries. I climbed into bed, switched on my laptop and played a few episodes of Under the Dome before falling asleep.

On Friday morning I went to grab my camera, wondering where I’d put it. I searched through my top desk drawer, where it’s normally kept. Not there. I grabbed my now empty travel bag, furiously unzipping every compartment feeling around for it. Not there. I checked my toiletries bag. Not there. I ran out to the car, sticking my head inside the boot and under the seats. Not there. I desperately went rummaging through the suitcase, even though I knew there was no way it could be in there. Through all the clutter strewn around the suitcase. Nope, not there.

I had carried it around in my hand luggage the whole trip home. I had barely taken it out the day before. The last thing I could remember was at the hotel, just moments before we were about to leave. The sky was black and I had a pretty good view of the storm that was brewing. My only possible explanation was that I’d put the camera on the bench as I grabbed my jacket and bag, and forgot to pick it up again.


I was furious. And for the first time in a long time, I really hated my diabetes for it. Maybe, just maybe, if I didn’t have to carry around all of that crap in my bag. My meter. My insulin pen. My lantus pen. My insulin boxes. My test strips. My needles. My marshmallows. My sharps container. Have I forgotten anything? If I didn’t have all of that crap to remember to take home, I might have remembered to pick up my camera on the way out the hotel door. The camera that was not very old. The camera that I’d paid a lot of money for. And the camera that carried all of the photos I’d had so much fun taking over the last two weeks.

Perhaps if I didn’t have diabetes, I wouldn’t have had to waste my whole Friday looking for this camera. I wouldn’t have had to spend my Friday stressed and unable to laugh with everyone else at lunch time. And I wouldn’t have had a leisurely day at home taken away from me.

I rang up the hotel, with no luck. I was convinced that there was no chance of it being anywhere else, but Mum encouraged me to cover my bases. I rang up the car company that drove us to the airport. I called Sydney Airport security and left a message on their lovely automated system. And finally, I called Qantas Baggage Services. “It’s a black Sony pocket camera in a black velvety LowePro case.” I said to the woman on the phone anxiously. “This sounds exactly like the one you’ve described sir, a Sony Cybershot digital camera in a LowePro case. It was found in row 46.” 

I was extatic. The camera was there the whole time, in the very last place I thought it could be. And all of a sudden, I was my happy holiday self once again. I didn’t care about having to make another trip to the airport. I didn’t care that I’d wasted the whole day. And I wasn’t angry at my diabetes anymore. I was just so happy to be reunited with my camera.

Thanks, Qantas. It’s nice to know there’s still some goodwill in the world.

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