Murphy's Law: Inspiring better blog posts, one mishap at a time

I’ll never forget the day that I was almost insulin-less in a brand new, non-English speaking country, alone.

I had spent my first full day in Barcelona exploring Park Guell. It was beautiful, but its enormity and complex layout didn’t help when I realized that I didn’t have my diabetes supplies. No insulin, glucometer, or syringes! I told myself to be calm and retrace my steps. I asked the café workers if it had been turned in—nothing. Upon leaving the park, I had gotten in a cab for a second until the driver told me that the metro wasn't very far, and so I hoped that it had slipped out of my bag and would be waiting for me on his seat. When I couldn't find that cab, I called the cab company. Nobody working spoke English, but a driver who did spoke to the operator for me. No word of an insulin kit being found in any cab. I panicked. Trying to keep the tears that had been welling up from pouring out of my eyes, I took a couple of deep breaths and headed to the nearest pharmacy.

The two women working were incredibly kind. One of them spoke perfect English, and they both stopped what they were doing instantly and started brainstorming. They had insulin, but the labeling was different and they couldn't prescribe it. They did check my bloodsugar, and it was at a safe level, so that was reassuring. I figured at the very worst, I’d buy a glucometer to periodically check my levels, eat no carbs for the rest of the trip, avoid drinking as it makes my sugar go all over the place, and stay near the hostel so that I could have somebody around me to help if something went wrong. I was becoming despondent, realizing that I may not get to fully experience Barcelona after all, but tried to keep my head up.

I went back to the café one more time, and sure enough my little black case, ripped at the seams with syringes poking out of it, was sitting behind the counter. I about kissed the guy that was working there, did a happy dance down the street, and stopped in the pharmacy to tell the two women. We all cheered and hugged. They said they had been talking about how worried they were ever since I'd left.

I learned from this experience that when Murphy’s Law takes hold, sometimes you experience more from the mayhem than you would have in your carefully laid-out plan. I would have never met the wonderful women from the pharmacy if not for my irresponsibility. Connections can be made in all types of situations, but dire ones make them all the more surprising.