Almost weekly my cousin, a psychiatric nurse, sends me another spoof of United Healthcare by Dr. Glaucomflecken on Youtube. While I watch healthcare disintegrate into for profit, assembly line, tests-are-more-important than looking at patients, ophthalmologist and comedian William Flanary, the man behind the Glaucomflecken mask, gives me something worth watching.

I am delighted to be among approximately 25 people with diabetes who will be traveling from all over the world to attend the EASD conference in Hamburg, Germany beginning October 2.

The organization that is sponsoring my, and everyone’s travel expenses, is #dedoc° founded by the amazing Bastian Hauck, who has single-handedly built diabetes social media presence in Europe. I first met Bastian at an International Diabetes Federation conference in 2015 in Vancouver, but only this year did I add myself to his remarkable group of Voices.

Bastian’s insight was that diabetes patient advocates were a sorely missing piece of global scientific conferences and so he set out to change that. Today the Voices can be found at ADA, EASD, ISPAD and ATTD sharing their stories with health professionals, researchers and industry, and bringing back their wealth of gained knowledge to their communities, local and social.

I am proud to take my place among them and be a part of this movement. Below diabetes advocates at IDF’s World Congress in Lisbon last year where Bastian and I caught up. You might guess he’s the tall guy behind me, and you’d be right.

Diego and his mom

I got the text at 8:57 pm last night. “We have an emergency with a family from Panama on holiday in NYC and I thought of you! They’re vacationing until Tuesday and have miscalculated their child’s insulin. They need a pen of rapid and basal insulin. Can you help?” My texter, Pilar Gomez, is the face of type 1 diabetes in Panama, educating, running diabetes camp, being a mom to a daughter with type 1.

So today I spent the morning texting with the family’s mom and we arranged to meet at a diner in Brooklyn for the handover. I, myself, know what it’s like when you think you have no insulin. Several years ago flying from Amsterdam to Copenhagen I thought my insulin had spoiled. I nervously reached out to a fellow type 1, who readily said, “I’ve insulin here for you, don’t worry.” I also have a doctor type 1 friend, who somehow supplies me with vials on a semi-regular basis, as he gets an abundance from his health insurance for free.

There is something magical about being in a situation where you don’t know anyone and you need insulin, and as my new Panamanian mom acquaintance said to me, “an angel appears.” I am fortunate to have angels in my life, and would never want anyone to be in that overwhelming frightening position to not know if their child will have to go without their insulin for days until they get home.

So, I joined my new Panamanian family in the diner booth, answered lots of questions, and shed as much light as I could for them. If Diego, now 12, who got type 1 two years ago, looks after what he eats and stays active, checks his blood sugar and takes his insulin, there’s no reason for him to face what his grandma did too early – death by diabetes. They were all thrilled to hear it.

It was a very good day

This was sent to me by my cousin who is a psychiatric nurse. She says it happens every day. While it’s not about diabetes, I think we can all relate to the constantly changing formulary of drugs, sigh…