Diabetes and Travel

Climbing the Sydney Harbour Bridge With Diabetes

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I’d been hanging out for a sunny day during my time in Sydney. Even though I’d already climbed the Sydney Harbour Bridge when I was last here, I so badly wanted to do it again. It was one of the most breathtaking, memorable and liberating experiences in my life. This holiday was all about getting some time out. Diabetes has messed up my headspace and triggered some intense emotional rollercoasters this year, and I really felt as though I needed to have this experience once again. I really felt as though this experience would be the perfect way to hit the refresh button.

This time around, I’d had a Twilight climb in mind. I was hoping that I would get a chance to see the sunset up there, as well as have a photo in front of the night sky. It was just a matter of getting the timing right. Timing. If everything went to plan, I would be up on the bridge at around 4pm, I would reach the top by sunset, and I would get my photo in front of the night sky on the way down. I hoped.

Next up was the dreaded task of having to disclose diabetes to my counter attendant. I hate disclosing my diabetes because its just such a demoralising task. And this time around proved to be no different.

I got a confused look, and a reply that went something like “soooo what does that mean?” (for my climb). Thankfully this didn’t last long and she began asking what sounded like routine questions. “Have you ever lost consciousness from low blood sugars?” No, I’m not an invalid. “Are you on any medication?” Yes, insulin shots with every meal. “Will you be okay being up there for a while without eating?” Yes, I don’t have to eat just because I have diabetes. “The kiosk is over there if you’d like to grab something to eat before you go.”

See what I mean?

It annoyed me that I had to be the one to speak up about wanting to carry my insulin pen and meter up there with me as a just in case. I was told that “we don’t normally allow you to carry items up there.” Not wanting to make a big fuss, I said that I would be fine to have a last test of the BGLs during the prep time.

I was all booked, out of there and had well over an hour to kill before my climb. And boy oh boy did that hour turn out to be one of the most intense and eventful hours out of the whole trip. I had a Hypo on the Harbour, which you can read about here.

I later returned to the BridgeClimb centre, waiting to be called in to start my 3.25pm climb. I did one last check of my blood sugar levels. It was a cool 6.2 following my nasty hypo. We were finally called in, and the prep work started. Group introductions, paperwork and safety instructions. We got dressed into jumpsuits and then had radios, headsets, headlights, beanies, fleeces, gloves and hankies hooked onto us. We were also fitted with belts that would physically attach us to the bridge during the climb. I had snuck my meter and insulin pen in my pocket, only to have to face what looked like an airport security gate. Thankfully, my climb leader had a carry case on his waist for things like this, although this would have been nice to know before! Finally, we each had a run of the practice course, before making our way onto the bridge at around five past four.

We had to climb up some ladders and through some narrow spaces to get to the outer edge of the bridge. That’s about as hard as it got. Once we were on the outside, it was literally just like walking up a ramp with some spectacular views. It wasn’t difficult, it wasn’t super physical and we moved at a steady pace. The sun was hidden behind a few lingering clouds, and I was praying the whole way up that it would come out in time for our first photo.

First stop was the Sydney Opera House, bathed in the last of the golden afternoon sunlight.

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Second stop was an appointment to watch the sun set. It was breathtaking. It was beautiful. It was another one of those moments where the whole world just stopped. In that moment, all I had to do was stand there and take it in. In that moment, diabetes did not even exist. The sun dipped below the horizon, leaving behind it a glowing Twilight sky and the perfect backdrop for my photo at the summit.

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The dark, the cold and the wind began to set in on the way down and it was time to pull out the fleeces. And this final photo was well and truly worth all sorts of cold.

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I could honestly sit here, staring at this photo for hours and hours. Every time I look at it, I see how happy I am. I see what is by far my favourite city in Australia. I see a breathtaking view of the city lights against the night sky. I am reminded of the amazing, once-in-a-lifetime experince that I had. I am reminded of just how relaxed, liberated and free from diabetes I felt that night. It’s something that I’ll be able to go back and draw inspiration from every time diabetes tries to knock me down. And it’s something that reminds me that anything and everything is possible in a life with diabetes.

And most importantly, it was the perfect way for me to hit the refresh button and start the second half of the year.

Someone Else With Diabetes Was Here!

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It was our last morning in Canberra. I was pretty much all packed up and ready to go. With a bit of time left on my hands to kill, I decided to do all of those crazy checks of the room. I zipped up and re-opened my hand luggage, pulled the sheets off the bed, opened and closed each drawer on my bedside table. I knew there was absolutely nothing left in the room, but in one final moment of craziness, I decided to pull the bed away from the wall. And this is what I found.

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It was a ketone strip. And ironically, it even belonged to the very same blood glucose meter that I use.

It’s hard not to feel alone when dealing with diabetes, sometimes. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I like being independent. I test on my own. I inject on my own. I correct on my own. I fix hypos on my own. I get angry and frustrated on my own. I get all excited on my own. And I deal with all those crazy thoughts and feelings that go rushing through my head on my own. Okay, maybe I’m a little too independent.

I do my best to talk about diabetes to others, where I can. Last week, I was pretty proud of the fact that I decided to share the eye issues I was having with some of my friends at work. I’m also pretty proud to share with my family the progress that I’m making with this blog and all of the amazing support that’s come from it. But I still struggle to explain to others all of the things I have to do to manage my diabetes. And it’s still a struggle for others to understand that there is a difference between type 1 and type 2.

Outside of this blog and the wonderful diabetes online community, I don’t really know many people with diabetes. And this had to be the closest that I had ever come to someone else with diabetes. I saw that test strip and I was ecstatic. I shouted for the others to come in and see what I had found. I grabbed my camera and began taking photos. I even resisted the urge to post the photo up on Twitter.

Someone else with diabetes was here. Someone else, like me, had to drag type 1 diabetes along with them on their travels. Someone else, like me, had to sacrifice precious holiday time to deal with diabetes. Someone else, like me, had a frustrating time as they did their best to get rid of those ketones. And maybe, like me, they got so frustrated that they flung all of their used test strips on the floor.

In that moment, I was reminded that type 1 diabetes does exist in the real world, too. And in that moment, I felt just a little bit less alone with my diabetes.

Throwing Away all the Rules in Sydney

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I spend most days doing my best to resist all those foods that I know are bad for my blood sugar levels. Like the goodies my work Mums pull out of their pockets without fail. Like the birthday morning teas at work where pink donuts are mandatory. Like the packet of Tim Tams or slice of leftover cake with my cuppa in the afternoon. And then having to fight the urge to open a packet of chips afterwards for my something savoury.

Over time, I’ve gotten better at it, and I am more resilient. I’m proud to say that I no longer need to have that afternoon snack that’s been a part of my daily routine for my whole life. I still do allow myself these things on occasions, and Friday is still my I-can’t-be-bothered-I’ll-buy-my-lunch-at-work kind of a day. But it’s a hard job. So when I go on holidays, I tend to throw away all the rules.

I don’t go on holidays too often, and it will probably be a long time until I go back to Sydney again. And so, I get that feeling of needing to stock up. Moreso when you come from a tiny city like Perth. Of needing to get my fill, while I can. Before it all goes away again. And boy oh boy, did I find some good spots.

Like a cake and cappuccino at the best Pasticceria in Sydney, Via Del Corso. I think I stopped by there almost every day. I’m not even ashamed to admit that I went there one afternoon after I’d already had a coffee and cannoli elsewhere. The Choc Panna Cotta, the Baked Ricotta Cheesecake, the Tiramisu or the Snickers, there was no shortage of choices there to aid my difficult decision making!

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Then there’s the best Cannoli in Sydney, at Rossini Cafe on the harbour. If it wasn’t such a trek to walk, you would have seen me there every day for sure. When I finished my climb of the Sydney Harbour Bridge in the dark last week, my blood sugar level had rebounded to a lovely 17 after my Hypo on the Harbour. It was dark and I was ridiculously high. But all I wanted to do was trek over to Rossini’s for one of their massive, freshly filled Cannoli served on a pile of thick, creamy custard. Public apology to my Mum, I had forgotten just how awesome these were since last time.

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Then there’s the Lindt Cafe. You know, the one in Martin Place that was the setting of the tragic Sydney Siege last year. Going by the crowds inside, it’s hard to believe that something so terrible could have happened here. The hot chocolate was SO worth the trek. Again, I came here one afternoon shortly after a coffee and cake at Via Del Corso. And I guess it serves me right that I went most of the trip not realising there was another Lindt Cafe closer to where I was staying!

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And finally, Darling Harbour. I think we ate here all but one night. The best thing here is the three-course-meal-and-a-glass-of-wine-for-$30 thing. Almost every restaurant here has some sort of tempting not-so-diabetes-friendly offer like it.

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The most suprising thing was how well my blood sugar levels managed all this food on the trip. Most days I went without breakfast or lunch simply because I was full from all the other crap I was eating. But I honestly don’t recall having half as many hypers or hypos as my last holiday. There were even some mornings where I woke up in disbelief seeing numbers below 10.

I CAN travel with diabetes. I CAN eat crap. And I CAN still produce decent blood sugar levels afterwards.

Bring on the next one.

Blaming Diabetes For My Bad Day

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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.

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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.

Hypo on the Harbour

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I’ve been wanting to do the BridgeClimb ever since I got to Sydney, and Tuesday’s spectacular weather looked like the perfect opportunity to do so. Everyone else wanted to come down to Sydney Harbour one last time before we left, so we decided to head down together for lunch beforehand.

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The steak burger I ordered for lunch came on a plate piled with way too many chips. I knew that I probably shouldn’t have eaten all of them. I knew that I was already feeling full after I was about halfway through. And I knew that amount of chips would probably send my blood sugars through the roof. But that plate looked so irresistable, and I was on holiday. In anticipation of that surge in my Blood Sugar Levels, I dialled up a generous dose of Insulin to cover it, and downed most of the plate.

After lunch, I separated from the others and headed off to book my climb. I still had well over an hour to kill before my 3.25pm climb, and decided to set off down a familiar walkway that I’d wanted to venture last time I was here. This walkway was situated directly under the Sydney Harbour Bridge, and took me right across to the other side. On the other side of the bridge was the Town of Kirribilli, a densely populated area in the northern part of Sydney. There were lots of apartment buildings, small streets, some vintage buildings and a train station called Milson’s Point. I really wish I’d taken some photos!

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Although I was carrying a shopping bag with all of my supplies, I had completely forgotten to bring some sugar for the BridgeClimb. There was a small Pharmacy there on that quiet street, and I was debating whether to go in and buy some jellybeans. I talked myself out of it, thinking that there was no way I’d go hypo after that lunch I’d had. I’d just be stuck with a packet of jellybeans to finish, something that I am absolutely sick of using for hypo treatment.

I headed back to my side of the bridge, and made my way back to that deserted street where the BridgeClimb building was located. I found some steps to sit and have a rest, and pulled out my meter to test. As much as I just wanted to sit there and rest, my meter forced me up again with the news that my blood sugar was 4.0. Just 4.0 less than two hours after eating lunch. Yikes. It must have been that long walk. I knew I had to get moving. I knew I had to find a shop of some sort to buy a drink from. And boy, oh boy, that street was dead quiet.

I started walking along, desperately searching for some sort of a shop. I really didn’t want to have to walk all the way back over to the busy Harbour area. But all I could see were high walls, deserted town houses and a few pubs. I really did not want to have to walk into a pub in that situation, either, but it might have to be a last resort. I found a modern looking building that stuck out in this old, quaint looking area. And there were signs of life inside. Nope, it was just an indoor basketball court. Walking a little further down, and I finally found a shop, where I grabbed an overpriced bottle of Solo.

I found a shady park bench outside and sat down under it. I cracked open the lid, and skulled down half the bottle. That cold, sweet liquid entering my mouth was the perfect thirst quencher after that long walk. I sat there for about 15 minutes. The calm slowly began to return to me, and I was able to get my breath back.

I walked into the BridgeClimb building and took a seat in the waiting area. I pulled out my meter, proudly held up the 6.2 post-hypo result, and decided to take a #BGLSelfie for National Diabetes Week. Because even a bad hypo wasn’t about to ruin my day.

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