Migration with diabetes: Stories from people on the move

Later, Ehsen began experiencing unstable blood sugar levels, which would rise and fall repeatedly. When his sugar level dropped, he would faint. If [his blood sugar levels were] high, he required long hospital stays to improve his condition.

Coping with this was very difficult. I had no support. I was an orphan before I got married, and my husband’s membership in a local militia and violent acts in our community made people avoid me. At home, my husband’s treatment was worse. He was violent, he beat me, and I had to have several surgeries; but I did not fear for myself. I feared for my children and their future.

When my husband was on a month-long training course, I took some money and two insulin pens for my son and we left [the average number of pens used in a month is 5] for Türkiye.

At the airport, I had to plead with an officer to let me and my young children on the plane. Eventually, he took $300 and let me through but our plane was delayed, and I was terrified my husband had returned and was looking for me. I felt like I lost half my life waiting for that flight.

In Türkiye I was a stranger and did not know the language or where to go, and Ehsen soon ran out of medication. His condition worsened and he was hospitalized for more than a month.  During this time, I learned my husband was looking for me and I knew we had to leave. The hospital discharged us with enough medication and insulin pens for six months, a blood sugar monitoring device, and even a container with fruit and milk.

When we reached the coast to travel by boat to Greece, the smuggler...said we could each carry a only small bag. We were four people, and except for my sick son, we all carried a small shoulder bag, each containing only Ehsen’s medical supplies.

Unfortunately, our first attempt failed, and we returned halfway before reaching Greece. Living through this was not easy, but we tried again. During the journeys, my son was taking his medication, but it not regularly. When we arrived in Greece, he was again hospitalized. 

I applied for asylum. This allowed my family, and especially my son, [to access] health insurance so he could go to the hospital and get treatment. However, [our asylum application] was rejected twice, our insurance was stopped, and I couldn’t buy medication for Ehsen. That is how I reached MSF about a year ago, as through them I can access free medication, including insulin pens, for my son.

Thank God my son can now take care of himself and manage his treatment using pens, which is much easier, whereas the syringe requires someone to help.

Renewed uncertainty of legal status

It has been six years since we arrived in Greece, and now my fear and anxiety for my son have increased. This is because I never expected the second rejection of my asylum application. [The government’s] excuse was that Iraq [was considered] a safe country, and [that they believed] I could return. My lawyer and I explained my situation and family condition, and I am currently waiting for a response, which will be the final decision. I hope to have official papers because that will bring back medical insurance.

You might think from my talk that these are ordinary events, but living through it is not easy. Exile is difficult and takes away from a person's life. If not for the harsh and challenging circumstances with my husband, I would not have left my home and country. Anyone with diabetes who takes a journey like this should think through every step and consider securing treatment because it is not easy.

All I want is to ensure my children's future in a country that will embrace and care for them. 

*Names have been changed for privacy. 

I injected insulin three times a day. Sometimes the blood sugar level would get very high, reaching up to 500, due to the lack of accuracy in the doses I was injecting, and the stress I was under. My financial situation did not allow me to eat regular meals either. I felt pain in all my bones and every part of my body.

Unfortunately, when circumstances are difficult, one clings to any hope or opportunity for change, so we finally decided to leave, travel through Türkiye to get to Greece.  I went without insulin for three days during this part of my journey, and I did not eat for fear of increasing my sugar levels. When I saw the sea, I did not think much about the illness or insulin. All I thought about was to save myself and my family. At the moment when I was on the sea, and saw death with my own eyes, I did not think about the insulin either. But I thought about it soon after we arrived. 

When we arrived safely in Greece [on the island of Kos], I started feeling tired. Someone asked me what was wrong, and I told him I needed insulin. So, the people who were with me on the same boat collected money to buy me insulin. We surrendered ourselves to the authorities who transferred me to a doctor who confirmed my medical condition and provided me with insulin.

When we got to Athens, I was transferred to this camp. At the camp they also asked about my illness and the type of medications I had. I had one remaining injection of insulin left. So, they made appointments for me at the public hospital and provided me with insulin. 

My application for asylum was turned down by the Greek authorities and that meant that I lost the right to access health care in the Greek health system.

On that same day, I met someone from MSF in the camp, I didn’t know they were present. MSF supported me and gave me the insulin—in pens—that I needed.
 
For someone with diabetes who uses insulin, the pen is necessary.