I’m Elizabeth, a marketing consultant with Type 1 diabetes who practically lives in airports. I’m diligent about carrying snacks and insulin, because a sudden drop in blood sugar can be dangerous—especially on a long flight.
On a recent Chicago–Seattle trip, a fellow passenger’s child was kicking my seat and whining, so when I unwrapped a protein bar to stave off hypoglycemia, his mother demanded I stop “because of his sensory issues.” I reluctantly waited, hoping the snack cart would arrive in time.
Forty minutes later, I was dizzy and weak. When the cart finally came, the boy’s father insisted no one in “their row” be served. That’s when I spoke up: “I have Type 1 diabetes. If I don’t eat, I could pass out.” The attendant immediately brought me a snack box and a soda.
I refilled my blood sugar, then looked the parents in the eye: “Managing my medical needs isn’t rude.” For the rest of the flight, I worked in peace—and learned that advocating for your health, even 30,000 feet in the air, isn’t optional.
