What the Cannoli.

“I’ll have a Latte and a Ricotta Cannoli please.”

I didn’t even have to think twice about my order. A truly spectacular day had conveniently come to an end with a ferry cruise of Sydney Harbour in all of its night time glory, leaving me just metres away Rossini Cafe at Circular Quay.

Rossini, in my humble opinion, is home of the best Ricotta Cannoli I have ever eaten. To be completely honest, it’s one of the reasons why I so look forward to visiting Sydney. I think I’ve set myself a new record this time around, having been here for a whole 48 hours without a visit there.

My levels have been bouncing around since I arrived here, largely due to lots of spontaneous eating and not much of a game plan in regards to insulin. That’s what holidays are for, right? So, trying to muster up a better game plan than the past 48 hours, I bolused for 50 grams the minute I placed my order.

The Cannoli was brought to my table, and I began browsing through my photo library looking back on some spectacular memories from today as I waited for the coffee to arrive.

The coffee came, and I began to sip on it. I left my Cannoli on the plate, scooping up a little bit of the delicious Ricotta filling with a spoon while I continued to drink my coffee and peruse through my phone.

“Excuse me sir, is there something wrong with the Cannoli?”

I turned around, kind of startled.

I assured the waitress standing behind me that there was definitely nothing wrong with the Cannoli. Looking at the empty coffee glass sitting next to the untouched plate of Cannoli, I can see how she had come to that conclusion.

But to me, however, it made perfect sense. I didn’t even have to think about what I had subconsciously done, leaving my Cannoli to one side until the pre-bolus had kicked in.

I would love to have told her exactly why I was waiting to eat my cannoli. But did she really need to know all of that? Probably not. Could I be bothered explaining all of that at the end of a long day? Definitely not.

I ate my Cannoli and paid my bill, feeling the pressure to leave.

Just another day in the life of diabetes, where the people around us are none the wiser.