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<blockquote data-quote="briped" data-source="post: 1787380" data-attributes="member: 472718"><p>It looks better, but still not quite as it should be. Mind you, it's not really polite to swing your legs up on a chair when visiting other people, even if they are laid back. I'm sure they wouldn't have minded at all, but I would <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /> Too well brought up, I suppose.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Thankfully I have had the same GP since some time back in the 80'es, so she knows me, which was probably why she wasted no time once the secretary had told her about my call. She knows I'm not likely to ask for help unless I mean business. I only have to learn to mean business a little sooner than I do.</p><p></p><p>The hospital doctors? I must say I can't remember all that clearly. It's been 3 years, and I was confused. My self image was being drastically transformed, and I had trouble dealing with that. On top of everything I was in an environment and a situation I wasn't used to. One doc told me about the PE, another about my BG and the day after a third doc told me about the heart condition, and suggested a surgical procedure called an ablation. I got the feeling that the longer I stayed at the hospital, the more diagnosis they'd find for me, so I made it my business to get out of there as quickly as possible. I told you I wasn't very good at asking the right questions at all, but I did ask the doc, who told me about my heart condition, one question. "Is this condition dangerous?". She said "no", and then I saw no reason to have the procedure done. </p><p></p><p>Yes, my breathing wasn't good at all. I was given oxygen, and a drip with something, but my memory of that is fairly hazy. Possibly a blood thinner, and certainly an ordinary saline solution. A hospital porter told me that during training they were asked to try breathing through a straw, just to get an idea of what it felt like not being able to breathe properly. I do remember the first thing I did on arriving at the ward. I unpacked my laptop, because I needed to send a mail to a customer. I was more concerned with getting that done than getting into my bed. The nurse, who helped me getting settled in, looked decidedly stern, and told me to stop doing that, and get into bed immediately <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite66" alt=":stop:" title="Stop :stop:" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":stop:" />I knew how to get my priorities right.<img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite39" alt=":hilarious:" title="Hilarious :hilarious:" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":hilarious:" /></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>I recognise that feeling of gloom from when I was first diagnosed in 2005. The problem with T2 is that it's such a sneaky condition. It doesn't hurt, you don't have bruises or any other visible signs, and after a while it's so easy to kid yourself into thinking that everything is ok, and go into denial. But, yes, I do remember my first 'breakfast' after my GP told me about this diabetes thingy. The only thing I dared eat was a cucumber!! I was hungry, but had no idea what to do. I was scared too. </p><p></p><p>At the hospital, 10 years after I was diagnosed for the first time, I wasn't at all surprised that my BG was way over anything sensible, but I had this gut feeling that I'd be ok, and didn't worry too much. At least as long as they'd stop finding out every little thing that was wrong with me <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite16" alt=":banghead:" title="Bang Head :banghead:" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":banghead:" /></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>I'm actually glad you didn't know, because it could very well just be me who sees it like that, so maybe it isn't true ...? When I think about it maybe I'm just too good at blaming myself for just about everything. </p><p>Incidentally, the consultant I mentioned in one of my previous posts, the Swedish guy, remember? I didn't mention that he's specialised in blood coagulation, so if anybody is able to comfort me, he's the guy. I should've listened to him, even if he does speak Swedish <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite37" alt=":happy:" title="Happy :happy:" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":happy:" /></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>You're very welcome. I hope you find them useful, and do let me know if you need help with your Danish <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite2" alt=";)" title="Wink ;)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=";)" /></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="briped, post: 1787380, member: 472718"] It looks better, but still not quite as it should be. Mind you, it's not really polite to swing your legs up on a chair when visiting other people, even if they are laid back. I'm sure they wouldn't have minded at all, but I would :) Too well brought up, I suppose. Thankfully I have had the same GP since some time back in the 80'es, so she knows me, which was probably why she wasted no time once the secretary had told her about my call. She knows I'm not likely to ask for help unless I mean business. I only have to learn to mean business a little sooner than I do. The hospital doctors? I must say I can't remember all that clearly. It's been 3 years, and I was confused. My self image was being drastically transformed, and I had trouble dealing with that. On top of everything I was in an environment and a situation I wasn't used to. One doc told me about the PE, another about my BG and the day after a third doc told me about the heart condition, and suggested a surgical procedure called an ablation. I got the feeling that the longer I stayed at the hospital, the more diagnosis they'd find for me, so I made it my business to get out of there as quickly as possible. I told you I wasn't very good at asking the right questions at all, but I did ask the doc, who told me about my heart condition, one question. "Is this condition dangerous?". She said "no", and then I saw no reason to have the procedure done. Yes, my breathing wasn't good at all. I was given oxygen, and a drip with something, but my memory of that is fairly hazy. Possibly a blood thinner, and certainly an ordinary saline solution. A hospital porter told me that during training they were asked to try breathing through a straw, just to get an idea of what it felt like not being able to breathe properly. I do remember the first thing I did on arriving at the ward. I unpacked my laptop, because I needed to send a mail to a customer. I was more concerned with getting that done than getting into my bed. The nurse, who helped me getting settled in, looked decidedly stern, and told me to stop doing that, and get into bed immediately :stop:I knew how to get my priorities right.:hilarious: I recognise that feeling of gloom from when I was first diagnosed in 2005. The problem with T2 is that it's such a sneaky condition. It doesn't hurt, you don't have bruises or any other visible signs, and after a while it's so easy to kid yourself into thinking that everything is ok, and go into denial. But, yes, I do remember my first 'breakfast' after my GP told me about this diabetes thingy. The only thing I dared eat was a cucumber!! I was hungry, but had no idea what to do. I was scared too. At the hospital, 10 years after I was diagnosed for the first time, I wasn't at all surprised that my BG was way over anything sensible, but I had this gut feeling that I'd be ok, and didn't worry too much. At least as long as they'd stop finding out every little thing that was wrong with me :banghead: I'm actually glad you didn't know, because it could very well just be me who sees it like that, so maybe it isn't true ...? When I think about it maybe I'm just too good at blaming myself for just about everything. Incidentally, the consultant I mentioned in one of my previous posts, the Swedish guy, remember? I didn't mention that he's specialised in blood coagulation, so if anybody is able to comfort me, he's the guy. I should've listened to him, even if he does speak Swedish :happy: You're very welcome. I hope you find them useful, and do let me know if you need help with your Danish ;) [/QUOTE]
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