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from country to town, part 2

brigitte 's blog

Many years with type 1 from France...

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 Blog Entries
from country to town, part 2 - Dec 01
Part 2.   During that  night, they kept me alive and they controlled my blood and then another day arrived.  I was not very well, but not like a very ill ...
from country to town - Dec 01
  It was in September 2003, I was in a bedroom, all was quiet but the pain in my chest was awful. Yes I was at the Clinique du Tonkin, a private hospital and yes I ...
what did the doctor say? - May 14
And the doctor said « your daughter is diabetic”      This is how I joined the D world. Well, so I think I must tell you that I’m type 1 since so many years, since 1967. ...
Thing to hide - May 02
A few days ago I started to write a blog in French and one in English. Did I tell that I have more type 1's friends from America or Canada than from France?  I spent ...
Some words about my twin - Apr 25
This is my first step in the world of blogs. I wanted to write about so many things about my diabetes, and now I'm in front of this empty "page" and trying to write something ...
Posted: Dec 1, 2010 9:26
  • from country to town, part 2

    Part 2.


    During that  night, they kept me alive and they controlled my blood and then another day arrived.  I was not very well, but not like a very ill person. The bad moment was away. A new doctor came to see me and it was the cardiologist.   The same story again and again: “You know we are on holidays here at the hospital and the department of coronopathy exploration is closed. So the doctor told me he had found place at the Clinique du Tonkin, in Villeurbanne (near Lyon) and they were waiting for me.   The helicopter of SAMU would arrive at 11:00 a.m. since he couldn’t keep me there since I needed better exams.   I phoned my mother and she told me that they were ready to go home in Lyon and that they would be on the roads while I fly to Lyon.


    I have a small secret I’ve never told anyone: I have never taken a plane … but I took a helicopter and it was wonderful! The SAMU’s doc asked me if I wanted to see the view and they put me in a good place, with my right arm with its tubes in my vein. And in my hospital suit! No more decorum but who can see me in this such fashion suit? Some clouds? The sky was blue without clouds. I was really happy to discover a new land. Yes from the sky, houses are small and I found that many houses have a swimming pool.


    In about 2O minutes I was in Lyon where an ambulance brought me and my doctor and a nurse to the Clinique du Tonkin. 


    This is where another story begins.   I met up with my future cardiologist and I was examined, where I was told that  I needed open heart surgery for 3 blocked coronaries.  Things all took speed so quickly and I remember my last evening and a song called Diamonds By The Yard (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E2BwDZ0m4qg ), by one of my American friends, Elliott Murphy and then I went to sleep.  Don’t ask me how I went to the operating room, how I took a shower.  I can’t remember.  I just remember the night after and the great pain that I feel in my body.  Of course I can’t stand the morphine that they used to give me.  I wondered – “What about my diabetes?”.   I’m sure he was pleased to see me with a great complication of diabetes. Sure I will take care of it after that I thought to myself.   They operated on me without my NPH insulin, only Novorapid (Novolog) from time to.   I was under glucose serum!!!!!!!!!   And after 2 days I asked to become my OWN doctor for control of my, and the answer was “oui”.  It’s not easy to have great pain, no able to move  and use insulins ( Humalog and Novomix 30). And I must tell you: I didn’t like the hospital. I heard the others patients, the steps of the nurses in the corridors. And my surgeon was becoming a good friend. He came after his great, so great job, every evening and we started to talk… I discovered that he saw every shows of the Rolling Stones... we spoke about anything and everything. Not about my surgery, and it was good.


    5 days later I moved to Iris, a place near Lyon, where patients with open-heart surgery go to learn how to put on clothes without the help of the arms, play with small balls like a child, try to walk 5 minutes and more every day … but it’s another story.




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  • By: : Jan, 03, 2011 06:23 AM
    thank you GrandmaLorraine. It's not easy to write all my feelings in English but I try! 
    And FatCatAnna, I really like your support.  I hope to share how I was after that bad time very soon! 

    By: : Jan, 02, 2011 11:02 AM
    Oh my gosh.  What a story.  You were certainly a very brave lady.  I hope we hear more from you.  That is, when you are at home and recovering.  Thank you for sharing.
    Grandma Lorraine


    By: FatCatAnna: Dec, 01, 2010 11:26 AM

    All I can say is - you didn't keep us in suspense long.  You are AMAZING!!!  Many thanks for sharing your story - and I look forward to reading about your recovery and perhaps another adventure in a helicopter???


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    Posted: Dec 1, 2010 6:00
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  • from country to town


    It was in September 2003, I was in a bedroom, all was quiet but the pain in my chest was awful. Yes I was at the Clinique du Tonkin, a private hospital and yes I remembered why I was there and why I couldn’t move the top of my body. But the story must begins here ….


    Once upon a time, at the end of August after eating a meal, I thought that something was not right inside my body.  I said to my family -  “I’m sure I ate something wrong and I have an allergy, I can’t breath!”   One of my two sisters told me that I had a strange colour on my face, that it was red.   She said “you must go to hospital, it’s maybe a bad allergy”.  


    I was somewhere in the middle of France in Drôme (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dr%C3%B4me )  and the weather beautiful, of course, it always is when you on holidays.  I was in a very small village at 8 kilometres of Die, a little town where there is a very small hospital, in your country you would probably call it a clinic.  This small hospital is where you go when your hammer chooses your finger instead of the nail – ouch!  So it was the beginning of he afternoon and we went to the Emergency room where a tall doctor who looked like a cowboy I saw in some movies, started to look at me and asked some questions about allergies.   I said to him  ” I have Type 1 diabetes since 1967” and his face changed suddenly. He was nice and he smiled as he took the machine to record what was happening in my heart…It was not an allergy…it was my heart! It was like the cut of the guillotine! My heart! Yes, I read that diabetics have more heart diseases, but it was not for me, how could it be?  The day before I had been walking in the mountains.  Yes, I had some retinopathy, but nothing else and I was in good health.   But inside this was another story.


    As I wrote before, this was a very small hospital.   There was no cardio, no better way to exam my heart than just an electrocardiogram.  My emergency doctor  was a good man as I told you and he told my family and I that “ I must call the emergency in Valence (75 kilometres far from Die) and an helicopter will be bring you to the hospital of Valence, where you’ll see a cardio.”   Ge took me in his arms and put me back in the hospital bed.   It was 2:00 p.m.  and then a nurse came and gave me oxygen in the nose.   I told my family to bring me some things that I would need in Valence, my insulins, one more box of tests for my glucometer. 


    So, I was waiting, waiting and waiting.  I spent my time watching my watch – not a good thing to do. And no SAMU (the French emergency) no helicopter, nothing at all.  At 8:00 p.m.  the doctor came into my  room and told me that there was no helicopter, and instead an ambulance from the Samu was coming. Yes, there are only two helicopters for two towns (Drôme and Ardèche, and please, take a map (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ard%C3%A8che ) to see their size and you will see they are small spaces).  One helicopter was broken and the other was in Marseille to bring someone else… bad luck.   At 9:00 p.m. the ambulance, with a doctor and a nurse arrived.  My sisters and my mother took my little Twingo (a Renault car) to follow me. Strange arrival, in the dark of the night.     


    This was the part 1 of this blog.







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  • By: FatCatAnna: Dec, 01, 2010 09:21 AM

    Bonjour Brigitte!  Wow - I am hoping that you eventually make it to the next hospital - that is so scary to have your life on hold!! 

    You have me sitting on the edge of my seat for the next chapter. 


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