13 Days to Go

So. I currently have 13 days until I leave for France. I've spent the past week saying, "Oh lord, I'm going to FRANCE! In TWO WEEKS! What am I going to DO?!?!" at random intervals to people in my general area.

Good news: They do, in fact, have novolog insulin available in France (as my friends keep telling me, they don't just let their diabetics die in France). Also, I've made an appointment with an endocrinologist in France for a few days after I get to Grenoble (in French! Entirely in French! I didn't have to ask the receptionist to speak English and she didn't offer!). Also, I'm very excited about speaking French.

Stuff I still need to take care of: Luckily, all of the essential things (insulin) are up in that first paragraph. But I still have to make a reservation with a hostel for the two nights I'll be in Paris by myself. And I need to find out how to get test strips and pump supplies (although I'll have three-six months' worth of pump supplies with me when I get there). And of course I have to pack.

My feelings about living in France for a year vary wildly from day to day. If I've just completed something important having to do with leaving, I'm very excited about it. If I've just done something here that I love and will miss immensely, I'm not so sure. In general, I think, I'm really looking forward to it, but I'm also nervous that I'll forget something important and have to be shipped home in disgrace. Of course, I hear that they only ship you home if they catch you skinning kittens alive in the basement of your apartment building, and I'm planning on leaving my taxidermist's kit at home.