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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 ...
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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 ...
more
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. ...
more
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 ...
more
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 ...
more
from country to town, part 2
Posted: Dec 1, 2010 9:26:35 3 Comments.
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  • 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.

     

     

     

    from country to town
    Posted: Dec 1, 2010 6:00:27 1 Comment.
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  •  

    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.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    what did the doctor say?
    Posted: May 14, 2010 13:08:46 1 Comment.
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  • 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. On the first days of September 1967 I started to get insulin. I never had a coma before and I know that my first bg was 1,50 gramme… A number that is a good number today, but this old one was the beginning of a new life with so tall long needles and glass syringes

     

    And a tall nurse who went into my home to inject insulin in my legs and arms every day. No more Sunday. She went from September to December. After I made my injections

    And in 1968, my parents discovered plastic syringes, single used. They were from Gillette. And it was May 1968…street fighting men. My father didn’t work and the factories, the offices were closed, shops were closed, no more fuel for the cars. And it was a very happy month because the schools were closed. So I didn’t go there and I played with my brother Philippe. And I remember that there were no more my Gillette needles.

     

     So it was a bad new. But like Christopher Colombus, my father discovered BD syringes and needles from America.

    It was a long time ago.  I called these days my prehistoric age. I lived without control. No A1C!  I don’t talk to you about the drops of urine into a small glass tube where we added drops of water, and then something called maybe clinitest, a big tablet. I keep this:

     

    And I was a child, a teen, a young adult and I discovered in 1984, my first glucometer. I used to wait maybe a minute to get my bg. Now I need 3 seconds… thanks.

    Well I ate carbs, vegetables, sometimes cakes. I never forgot an injection but I was without control and I certainly had too much sugar in my blood. One of the first A1C showed such a bad number, 13%!!!!!

    But there was no complication. My eyes were well, I walked a lot and I live my life and sometimes I had the feeling to forget that I was with a strange illness who worked without sound.

    The first bad new was my retinopathy but the laser was here. And it was in the beginning of the nineties. Everything was ok after laser.

    Of course, I knew there were complications but why myself? I felt so good!  Maybe my doctor, an Endo, was not the right doctor. Maybe he spoke too much about politics; maybe he didn’t care about my health because I was feeling so fine.

    And once again, laser and bad A1C. And a new Endo. A woman. Well it was not as pleasant as with my other Endo. She wanted 6 bg per day, A1C every 3 months, and so many others things. She said that my insulins were not good for me so I changed. She said that she didn’t want a bg above 150 after meal, so I changed.  Changes, like the song. And it was a difficult task. My postprandial bg were still high. So I walked more.

    She was a woman without a smile on her face but she was a very good doctor. And one day she told, she stopped working. So a new Endo, another woman. Not at all the same, once again. She likes to laugh, to smile and she was a good Endo. She worked like the woman without smile but no fear to meet her. Everything was right and then came summer, holydays in a small old village, near the mountains. And it was 2003.

     

    It was a hot summer and it was nice because like the lizard I like hot weather, sun and blue sky. I walked a lot. And at the beginning of august, one morning, I told my family that I can’t see with my right eye. Well, the only big hospital was in Valence at 75 kilometres far from the little village but I was thinking about become blind, about bad things. We arrived at the emergency and some minutes after I saw a doctor. During the travel, in car, my vision was getting better and there was no more “all is black”! The doc didn’t see abnormal thing in my eye. I told him that I was a type 1 and got retinopathy.

    And the doctor said “there’s nothing in your eye, you can go home”…

     

    Thing to hide
    Posted: May 2, 2010 4:52:40 1 Comment.
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  • 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.
    Some words about my twin
    Posted: Apr 25, 2010 13:14:37 1 Comment.
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  • 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 in English with my French brain... Not so easy. 
    And to day I'm going to tell you a little  about my friend, my twin as she wrote, Anna... I'm sure everybody know her blog, her work. The first time I saw her on photos and read something about her, I was asking myself : Is she a type 1 like myself?  and yes, she was! And I wasn't American and with her and others friends from America I began to learn so much that I took my time to understand all the informations from them. No I didn't discover the Moon or Mars, I discovered a new life. Maybe it was too late because my old friend Type 1 was with me since I was ten years old and at this moment of my life it was prehistoric age. I remember all these so big needles and the syringes made of glass and of course the doctor who said to my parents " your daughter is  Diabetic". I'm Diabetic.
    And now I inject Levemir and Apidra with my pen and so small needles! And , yes, Anna used Levemir too. So she is a woman, she is a type 1, she used Levemir, she likes life...maybe she is right, she is my twin. 
     This is my first step .
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