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Type 1 Diabetes
I feel like i wont be happy again:(((
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<blockquote data-quote="Grant_Vicat" data-source="post: 2243266" data-attributes="member: 388932"><p>Hi [USER=452484]@kev-w[/USER] Interesting you should say this. My family have been bombarded with auto-immune conditions over nearly 150 years. Before that I have no information. But I do know that none of them had more than one of these conditions at the same time. My maternal Grandmother had rheumatoid arthritis, her children, including my mother, all escaped this, but her genetic lineage almost certainly caused me to be diagnosed type 1 while still a baby. My sister has had rheumatoid arthritis for at least ten years now. My daughter has the celiac element, having suffered severe anaphylaxis on her first day in Australia nearly twenty years ago. For [USER=521902]@rebetic[/USER] None of us have had lives that can be classed as miserable. We've all had moments, but I'm going to enclose the last letter I wote to father, shortly before he died:</p><p><em>Dear Duds,</em></p><p></p><p><em>It was good to talk to you this morning. As I mentioned, I thought I would put down some thoughts concerning your anxiety about making the right decision on 9th July 1959. I have never doubted that you did the right thing. Some of my earliest recollections date back to before we moved from Adur Avenue.</em></p><p><em>I remember you knocking over Mrs Greenyer's dustbin with the Bentley and watching it roll down the drive. Also my favourite record and movement in particular was the slow movement of Brahms' First Piano Concerto played by Kempff. I also recall moving house in the Bentley sitting in the back with a section of train set perched at 45 degrees so that Giles and I were able to shunt trucks down, giggling all the time.</em></p><p><em>On reaching 337, the garden was so wild, with straggly raspberry bushes growing in what looked like a storm-damaged cornfield with 3 apple trees (conveniently we owned 1 each), a damson tree, and a huge privet hedge which we could crawl through and hide inside. I remember Johanna, at the age of three, biting into an apple while perched in the fork of the biggest tree, and Giles and I pointing out that it had a slug (I now think maggot) and an ant in it. With that she grinned and shoved the rest in her mouth. I also, at a similar age, remember her being the only one of the three of us being brave enough to go and find your Thor copper mallet with which she squashed a large wasp on the kitchen doorstep. I also remember that for years there was a completely flattened wasp in the same door's hinge plate. I would guess that the garden was nothing but a burden as far as you were concerned, but to us it was magical. As there were at first 2 pianos in the house, I think it was inevitable that I would be sucked into music, even if played badly. Whatever the standard of playing I very much enjoyed the challenge of trying to run before I could walk.</em></p><p><em>Complaining of boredom never met with sympathy, and I remember Mummy saying “There's plenty of drawing paper, books to read, trees to climb or a piano to play”. Of course she was right and I have never regretted her stance. Sometimes we would walk along to Buckingham Park or up to Erringham Farm, playing tollybonks* or looking for newts in the dewponds. In many ways we enjoyed a very liberal childhood. A little later came the go-cart... Even though I damaged myself on more than one occasion by taking a bend too quickly or falling off the back while acting as co-pilot, I had enormous fun on what became a Silver Cross Brescia Bugatti. I also loved exploring the finer parts of south-east England in whatever car we had at the time. Directly resulting from this I often turn off down tracks having no idea where they might lead, but I am able to rely on a grid system to keep my bearings. I remember you stopping at tiny churches, mainly in the hope of finding an unlocked organ. We enjoyed both playing and pumping the bellows on many of them. Resulting from listening to Widor, Schweitzer and Power-Biggs, this directly influenced a whole future career both at Lancing and beyond. I have made so many wonderful contacts in the organ world including the Directors of Music of Rochester, Ely, and St Edmundsbury Cathedrals as well as Southwell and York Minsters (The latter of course being Francis Jackson) not to mention Anne Page, Hans Hielscher of Wiesbaden Marktkirche, Martin Setchell (Organist of Christchurch Town Hall and Cathedral, New Zealand) for whom I am a reviewer. I also have an open invitation to play at St Magnus the Martyr, London Bridge. In addition to all this I have also played on a wonderful Cavaille-Coll at St Omer Cathedral.</em></p><p><em>All this is enough to have made life more than worthwhile. In post university years I have enjoyed organ building and 19 years of teaching, travelling abroad and touring all over England, Wales, Scotland and Southern Ireland. I have had the joy of seeing Stephanie flourish and become an excellent mother to gorgeous Amelia, as well as continuing the long line of Vicatic musicians. It looks as if Amelia will follow suit. Time will tell.</em></p><p><em>When looking at the darker side of a longer life than any medic predicted, I have been blessed by remarkably nice carers and doctors, including during the epic stay in Southlands in 1966. Oddly I felt pampered, probably because I was the only child walking about the ward and thus able to help the nurses.</em></p><p><em>This has continued right the way till now. I have had over 150 cards #, messages and prayers, including past pupils and even from an American author (for whom Helen does the illustrations) who sent me a signed copy of one of her latest works with a lovely message on the title page.</em></p><p><em>In short I have felt a great sense of achievement every time I celebrate another birthday and enjoy chalking up the years.</em></p><p><em>Thank you for making the right decision in 1959 and also for all the support in the ensuing years. The good has far outweighed the bad.</em></p><p><em>Lots of love to you both,</em></p><p><em>Grant</em></p><p></p><p> </p><p></p><p>Adur Avenue, at the end of the first paragraph, refers to 6 Adur Avenue, Shoreham-by-Sea. My mother's brother Jack moved there once we had left.</p><p></p><p> 337, at the beginning of the third paragraph, refers to 337 Upper Shoreham Road, Shoreham-by-Sea.</p><p></p><p>* Tollybonks are pulled up handfuls of stubble with a large blob of clay, which fly through the air impressively</p><p></p><p># Actually 255</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Grant_Vicat, post: 2243266, member: 388932"] Hi [USER=452484]@kev-w[/USER] Interesting you should say this. My family have been bombarded with auto-immune conditions over nearly 150 years. Before that I have no information. But I do know that none of them had more than one of these conditions at the same time. My maternal Grandmother had rheumatoid arthritis, her children, including my mother, all escaped this, but her genetic lineage almost certainly caused me to be diagnosed type 1 while still a baby. My sister has had rheumatoid arthritis for at least ten years now. My daughter has the celiac element, having suffered severe anaphylaxis on her first day in Australia nearly twenty years ago. For [USER=521902]@rebetic[/USER] None of us have had lives that can be classed as miserable. We've all had moments, but I'm going to enclose the last letter I wote to father, shortly before he died: [I]Dear Duds,[/I] [I]It was good to talk to you this morning. As I mentioned, I thought I would put down some thoughts concerning your anxiety about making the right decision on 9th July 1959. I have never doubted that you did the right thing. Some of my earliest recollections date back to before we moved from Adur Avenue. I remember you knocking over Mrs Greenyer's dustbin with the Bentley and watching it roll down the drive. Also my favourite record and movement in particular was the slow movement of Brahms' First Piano Concerto played by Kempff. I also recall moving house in the Bentley sitting in the back with a section of train set perched at 45 degrees so that Giles and I were able to shunt trucks down, giggling all the time. On reaching 337, the garden was so wild, with straggly raspberry bushes growing in what looked like a storm-damaged cornfield with 3 apple trees (conveniently we owned 1 each), a damson tree, and a huge privet hedge which we could crawl through and hide inside. I remember Johanna, at the age of three, biting into an apple while perched in the fork of the biggest tree, and Giles and I pointing out that it had a slug (I now think maggot) and an ant in it. With that she grinned and shoved the rest in her mouth. I also, at a similar age, remember her being the only one of the three of us being brave enough to go and find your Thor copper mallet with which she squashed a large wasp on the kitchen doorstep. I also remember that for years there was a completely flattened wasp in the same door's hinge plate. I would guess that the garden was nothing but a burden as far as you were concerned, but to us it was magical. As there were at first 2 pianos in the house, I think it was inevitable that I would be sucked into music, even if played badly. Whatever the standard of playing I very much enjoyed the challenge of trying to run before I could walk. Complaining of boredom never met with sympathy, and I remember Mummy saying “There's plenty of drawing paper, books to read, trees to climb or a piano to play”. Of course she was right and I have never regretted her stance. Sometimes we would walk along to Buckingham Park or up to Erringham Farm, playing tollybonks* or looking for newts in the dewponds. In many ways we enjoyed a very liberal childhood. A little later came the go-cart... Even though I damaged myself on more than one occasion by taking a bend too quickly or falling off the back while acting as co-pilot, I had enormous fun on what became a Silver Cross Brescia Bugatti. I also loved exploring the finer parts of south-east England in whatever car we had at the time. Directly resulting from this I often turn off down tracks having no idea where they might lead, but I am able to rely on a grid system to keep my bearings. I remember you stopping at tiny churches, mainly in the hope of finding an unlocked organ. We enjoyed both playing and pumping the bellows on many of them. Resulting from listening to Widor, Schweitzer and Power-Biggs, this directly influenced a whole future career both at Lancing and beyond. I have made so many wonderful contacts in the organ world including the Directors of Music of Rochester, Ely, and St Edmundsbury Cathedrals as well as Southwell and York Minsters (The latter of course being Francis Jackson) not to mention Anne Page, Hans Hielscher of Wiesbaden Marktkirche, Martin Setchell (Organist of Christchurch Town Hall and Cathedral, New Zealand) for whom I am a reviewer. I also have an open invitation to play at St Magnus the Martyr, London Bridge. In addition to all this I have also played on a wonderful Cavaille-Coll at St Omer Cathedral. All this is enough to have made life more than worthwhile. In post university years I have enjoyed organ building and 19 years of teaching, travelling abroad and touring all over England, Wales, Scotland and Southern Ireland. I have had the joy of seeing Stephanie flourish and become an excellent mother to gorgeous Amelia, as well as continuing the long line of Vicatic musicians. It looks as if Amelia will follow suit. Time will tell. When looking at the darker side of a longer life than any medic predicted, I have been blessed by remarkably nice carers and doctors, including during the epic stay in Southlands in 1966. Oddly I felt pampered, probably because I was the only child walking about the ward and thus able to help the nurses. This has continued right the way till now. I have had over 150 cards #, messages and prayers, including past pupils and even from an American author (for whom Helen does the illustrations) who sent me a signed copy of one of her latest works with a lovely message on the title page. In short I have felt a great sense of achievement every time I celebrate another birthday and enjoy chalking up the years. Thank you for making the right decision in 1959 and also for all the support in the ensuing years. The good has far outweighed the bad. Lots of love to you both, Grant[/I] Adur Avenue, at the end of the first paragraph, refers to 6 Adur Avenue, Shoreham-by-Sea. My mother's brother Jack moved there once we had left. 337, at the beginning of the third paragraph, refers to 337 Upper Shoreham Road, Shoreham-by-Sea. * Tollybonks are pulled up handfuls of stubble with a large blob of clay, which fly through the air impressively # Actually 255 [/QUOTE]
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I feel like i wont be happy again:(((
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