You’d Think I’d Be Used to Airports by Now — But Nothing Could’ve Prepared Me for That Flight
Airports. Delays. Stale cabin air and sad little snack packs. You’d think after years of business travel, I’d be numb to it all. But nothing—not even my most chaotic layover—prepared me for that flight to Seattle.
It started out like any other work trip. Just another seat by the window, another brand to reinvent, another city to check off. My name’s Elizabeth, and I’m a marketing consultant. From boutique hotels in Charleston to scrappy tech startups in San Jose, I help companies find their voice—and I love it. I even love the messy parts: TSA lines, overpriced neck pillows, and my suitcase that’s permanently half-unpacked.
But what I don’t love? Navigating all that while managing type 1 diabetes.
I was diagnosed when I was twelve, and it changed everything. No more impromptu sleepovers unless I packed like I was moving in. No skipping meals. No Halloween candy unless I was crashing. And the hardest part? Most people don’t see it. Diabetes is invisible—until it isn’t.
Until I’m shaking mid-meeting. Until I’m sweating through my blouse while scrambling for glucose tablets. Until I’m forced to explain, again, why I need to eat now, not when it’s “convenient.”
That day on the plane, someone decided my medical needs were less important than their parenting preferences.
They were wrong.
And they learned that the hard way—30,000 feet in the air.
