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 my whole diabetic life, and it began when I was ten years old, without knowing others people like me. Yes, I heard that a woman was type 1 when I was a teen but so sad, she died at 30 or a little more. In schools, nobody was like me. I was the strangest girl who ate sugar and got syringes. And in my adult life I met a man who was type 1, younger than me, and he was a neighbor! Nobody knows he was diabetic but one morning, I found something around the garbage box and that thing was the empty package of an insulin needle! So there was another diabetic, near me, in my building, who used the same needles as I used! It was so hard to find who was the diabetic! And it was the bad year of 2003, the year my dear type 1 wanted to be a star and told me "I'm here"! September 2003, I was for the first time in my life in an emergency service and I had an open-heart surgery... this is another story. And a neighbor asked my family how I was...it was the man with the type 1, father of two nice little daughters. When I came back from the clinique (private hospital) we spoke together and he told me his story and told me to keep the secret. He didn't want to be someone that others people put their finger on and said "He is diabetic".
When I was a diabetic child and later a young diabetic woman, I heard so many times:"oh, you're a diabetic, you eat too much sugar, or you can't eat sugar" . Or they just took a look at me, and said to my mother "it's sad for you" I started type 1 in the prehistoric age and, here in France, there were few children with type 1. Now I hope that people understand the difference between type 1 and type 2, in France. It's not a shame to be a type 1, it's our life, our battle. Maybe it's why I got the strange feeling that I was alone.