Shoot Up or Put Up

Before we get on to the main article suggested by the intentionally provocative headline, first things first – happy New Year to all our beloved readers. I hope you all had a lovely Christmas (or equivalent winter-based festival) and a fab Hogmanay. I certainly did; hurrah!

Anyway, avid reader Rachel brought my attention to this article in the Express newspaper about insulin syringes and airport security. For our non-UK readers who might not know of it, the Express, in my humble opinion, is a worthless rag with horrible, ill-researched journalism (if you can call it that) that results in a paper that is barely worth using to line the cat’s litter tray.

Essentially the jist of the story is that following the Christmas Day bomb scare thing a journalist (if you can call him that) apparently “evaded security” by taking a insulin pen through the security checks at Schiphol airport. After successfully getting airside, the scaremongering article notes that said journalist could then have used the insulin filled pen to…uhm…uhm…not do very much. Oh. Perhaps that’s why security ignored his small vial of insulin in the first place.

I’ve written about airport security before and I’ve never had any problem with taking insulin, needles, finger-pokers and what-not through airports. I never bother telling anyone I have a bag full of insulin and I’ve never been stopped. My concealed pistol has, however, been slightly more problematic. With talk of security being beefed-up (including not allowing passengers access to hand-luggage during the last hour of flights, etc.) I wonder if the pancreatically-challenged hoards might have problems in future?

I suspect we probably won’t – after all there’s not much you can actually do with a syringe – a few small vials of insulin and a couple of packets of test strips could hardly pose a security threat. So I think the Express’ article completely missed the point in two major ways. Firstly, the baddie on Christmas Day also had a load of explosives strapped in his undies – surely that being missed is a little more of an issue than a syringe. And secondly it’s worth noting that not all terrorist attacks happen on planes. The London 7/7 and Madrid attacks were carried out on trains and buses but there’s no talk of security scans on the number 44 bus to Balerno. In other words a determined terrorist will always get through no matter what levels of security are imposed – so why take it out on us innocent diabetics?

Anyway, I’d be interested to hear if any of our readers have had any issues with security since Christmas Day (or indeed, ever). And finally, can any of you diabetic geeks work out what brand of insulin the reporter has in the pictures - I can’t. Answers in the comments below!

Fashionable terrorist-chique

I was recently reminiscing about my childhood with some friends.

I grew up in Northern Ireland during the 1980’s amidst the chucklefest that was The Troubles. I usually say we lived in Belfast, but in fact we lived in the leafy suburbs of Cultra – which, as anyone who knows the area will attest, is not exactly the Falls Road. However, despite that, we lived in a house with bulletproof glass windows, barbed wire along the 6ft fence and reinforced gates.

As we chatted about this, I remembered that Sinn Féin was often described as the political wing of the IRA. Therefore it sort of followed that the IRA was the terrorist wing of Sinn Féin. Leaving the heady days of Northern Ireland behind, I wondered whether other organisations could have terrorist wings.

In the UK we diabetics have problems with the NHS, health boards and funding and our chums in the USA have endless issues with healthcare funding and insurances companies. There are clearly plenty of targets, so why not form a diabetic terrorist organisation? We’re all (moderately) clever, well organised and pretty damned fanatical about diabetes – so I can’t see any problems there. We could call it the PCA – the Pancreatically Challenged Army.

I don’t know about you, but I’m somewhat squeamish about real terrorism – I’m almost certain I couldn’t dole out a punishment beating to a health board executive, kneecap a drug rep., or plant high-explosives in an insurance company headquarters.

So I’m thinking more mischief than real terror – rude things said on blogs, seven thousand simultaneous requests for free meter samples, excrement trebuchets, live monkeys released into buildings – that sort of thing. No one will get hurt – just a bit smelly in the case of the fantastical poo-catapult.

So what would an active global campaign by the PCA achieve? Absolutely nothing. In fact it would probably set back the diabetic cause by years – rightly creating waves of public outcry, criminalising those of us with wonky pancreases and leading to sanctions on critical diabetic supplies such as Fruit Pastilles.

But isn’t it just great to fantasise about for just a moment? Turned down for pump funding yet again? Can’t get the number of test strips you need each month? One encrypted message to your nearest underground PCA cell and terrible revenge would be wreaked on your behalf. Oooooh, now that feels good.

Since I was diagnosed with diabetes (yay!) a few years ago, I’ve travelled quite a bit on planes. As you’ll all know, insulin hates getting too cold or too hot and therefore keeping our spare supplies in the hold is really out of the question.

Although a normal passenger plane’s hold will be heated to around about five degrees centigrade and is, of course, pressurised – you just don’t know how long your suitcase might stay out on the runway in baking tropical heat / freezing frigid cold (delete as applicable) or how well the throwers (or “baggage handlers” as they’re quaintly known) will treat your case. Katie and I always play a game as we wait for our suitcases to arrive on the carousel called “Which Bit of Suitcase Will Have Been Ripped Off This Time?” A wildly fun game if ever there was.

The long and short of all this is the diabetic has to carry through lots of little vials of clear, sinister-looking liquids through security in their hand luggage. Post 9/11 security has been seriously beefed up on all airlines and airports and so this could be a pain in the butt for us pancreatically-challenged victims.

As an aside, while I’m on the topic of security, I grew up in Belfast in the 1980’s during the tail-end of The Troubles and frequently flew back to England with my brother. I remember the approach up to Belfast’s Aldergrove airport was interrupted by a military checkpoint through which your car’s number plate was typed into the police computer and if you didn’t check out you were whisked aside to be blown up in a controlled explosion, or something.

Once past this you were frisked at the next security point and your bag searched regardless of whether the metal detector bleeped – and all this even before you got into the airport building itself. Security thereafter was, well, pretty damned secure. A nice man from the security services would question each passenger in the departures lounge (I was a school boy at the time, so answered questions like “what do you plan to do during your visit to Northern Ireland?” with a puzzled “uhm, go to school…?”). Finally you would arrive at London Heathrow at an arrivals gate especially reserved for entries from Northern Ireland which was situated miles away from any other gates – presumably to give MI5 a final chance to give you the once over.

So compared to all this I think the security nowadays is pretty straightforward, though I have to confess I prefer it now you don’t have a solder pointing his SA80 semi-automatic carbine at you while I go through security – but, hey, that’s just me.

Anyway, prior to travelling – like any good diabetic – I got a signed letter from my registrar explaining I was pancreatically-challenged, a copy of my latest prescription and prepared myself for questioning and possible full cavity body-searches.

However, I’ve never had the slightest problem with security and have never even had my bag manually searched – this applies to airlines or any of the tourist sights in the USA which had a degree of security. Meanwhile my wife, Katie, frequently gets stopped, frisked and searched as I’m ignored.

I suspect that under the prying x-ray machine my kit just looks like standard diabetic stuff and so it just gets waved through. Maybe I just have an honest face. In any event, that the guards are distracted by my insulin certainly makes it much easier to get my concealed handgun through security. Hurrah!

Tim is still on his hols which means I’m still dreaming about holidays and reminiscing happily about previous travel adventures.The honest one and the shifty one at the Top of the Rock

Tim and Katie are spending some time in New York so I wanted to offer them a bit of advice. When we went to the big apple we decided to go up to the top of the Rockefeller Centre for a view of the city.

Security was understandably tight with bags being x-rayed and people walking through metal detectors. As usual, the husband was virtually strip searched (he must have a shifty look about him). I started to walk through the metal detector when they spotted my pump.

We went through the usual routine. The security guard politely asked me to remove my cell phone. I explained it was an insulin pump. He asked me to “step this way please madam”. I was expecting to be manually searched but he just walked me round the back of the metal detector and waved me through, no metal detector, no search, nothing.

Security check over.

So I then got to stand there for the next 5 minutes while the husband was interrogated and searched. It appears the easiest way to get to the top of the Rockefeller Centre is to be a diabetic with an honest face and a shifty looking husband!