AADE: Chaos Theory
While my pancreas is woefully unemployed, I did find one at the AADE conference that had a job.
Only at a diabetes conference would there be a Pancreas and Muscle Tissue wandering around for photo opportunities as though they were Mickey and Minnie Mouse.
Freestyle Butterflies were working at the booth across from dLife's - I sincerely hope they were paid handsomely for their time.
"So can I have my picture taken with you guys?"
ButterflyOne adjusted her wings and tucked her ponytail back into her hood.
That night, a few of my co-workers and I shuttled down to a St. Louis jazz bar and saw Kim Massie - quite possibly one of the most talented singers I have ever stumbled upon. Her voice grabbed my sternum and reverberated in my soul. (Yes, she was that good.) The bar was perfect, in that in the middle of nowhere, picnic table sort of way. Empty beer bottles stuffed with white Christmas lights offered ambiance.
And the plane home. This was my only messy moment.
We ended up switching flights to grab an earlier plane, so our dLife team was scattered all over the plane. I was more towards the back, sitting in a row completely by myself. Conveniently enough, my anxiety and nervousness threw me into a neat little low blood sugar, leaving me alone in my seat at 52 mg/dl and stuffing glucose tabs into my mouth. Tears of panic caught at the corner of my eye.
A young stewardess, recognizing my symptoms, leaned in and handed me an orange juice. I thanked her wordlessly.
Drinking my juice and waiting for the plane to take off, I wiped my low-induced tears from my eyes and clenched my hands nervously in my lap. The xanax pills started taking their effect, making me a little looped.
"Excuse me?" A man sat in the outermost seat of the trio as I remained nervously mushed against the window. "You seem a little nervous. It's going to be just fine. I'm a pilot."
My brain couldn't register.
"You're the pilot? You need to be flying the plane!" (Thank you, Xanax, for making my brain melt at the most inopportune moment.)
He laughed. "It's going to be fine. You don't like to fly?"
"Not particularly." Sniffle. (My goodness, I'm a baby.)
"Well this is a short flight to NYC, so we'll be there in no time."
The plane and my blood sugar rose in unison. My panic subsided once we were in the air and I caught this view from my window.