250.03

WARNING:
The following post may be long and rambly!

I firmly believe the mind and body respond in ways that are completely entwined in our psyche. I think I now realize why fear grasps me, before I see this particular doctor.

Yesterday, I enter an extremely crowded waiting room, where the man at the front counter next to me makes a terrible joke. The receptionist tells him politely that Dr. A is very behind in his schedule. The man replies, "So does that make his Indian name, Running Late?" I think, he has to be nervous too!

I finally got back into a room, and the nurse takes my dreaded blood pressure. I hold my breath, and the automatic blood pressure machine breaks, while it is trying to inflate. I hear a retching sound next door, when someone grabbed my nurse and stole her away, while trying to get me out of the cuff. "He's throwing up, HELP ME!" another nurse yells and the commotion in the hall escalates.

I sat there, watching my arm turn blue, as I'm trying to restore circulation, and it hit me. The reason WHY I hate this office so much. I flashed back to sitting in the busy waiting room, engaged in my habit of people watching. Two amputees, one apparently fresh, with all of the billowy white wrapped around what's left of his leg. One blind woman was accompanied by her daughter, as well as many older couples with plastic bags filled up completely with medications. Then there's me. In heels, dressed for work, looking much younger than my age, and feeling quite well. I'm sick, but not. That could end up being me. I don't belong here. Suddenly, I wanted to tap my heels 3 times, and pray it will take me home, like Dorothy.

Then the nurse came back. This time, she manually took my blood pressure, and pricked my finger. 5.4.3.2.1..246. Crap! Not how I wanted to start this. She weighed me, made notes and rushed out of the room. Right behind her, a strange doctor entered, and he did not bother to introduce himself. He was curt, got the facts and exited. Then he quickly came back in with my doctor. Interns. Rotations must have just begun, because their was an intern at my last weeks DR.'s visit too.

I won't detail the entire visit, but I have to note that my doctor took way longer than 15 minutes with me, and even with his busy day was pretty jovial. I wonder if that was for the benefit of the intern. Call me a cynic. I did not ask about the pump and I totally chickened out. I was showing him my bruises on the back of my arm, and complaining about the shots, when I was quickly scolded about shot placement. "Why aren't you using you stomach or hips? You don't have enough F. A. T., and therefore don't get good absorption there." What? Totally caught off guard, and a little defensive, any good approach of a pump was forgotten.

Basically, he changed my insulin ratios, and I have to relive the torture in a month. Not what I was hoping for. His last words as I walked out the door were, "Don't forget. CALL ME if you have any problems, I'm here." I picked up my FMLA paperwork (3x I've forgotten about it), and I was somewhat distressed when I left for the lab downstairs. I looked at all the tests he was running, and noticed the code had changed. 250.03. Type 1 diabetic, presenting with no complications, UNCONTROLLED.

My head and heart just fell, for a moment I thought about ditching the lab and running to my car. In one hand I had the FMLA forms, to officially verify that I am chronically ill. In the other hand, a list of blood work to quantify how "sick" I really am. 250.03 and any one of those people with complications in the waiting room could be me. Sneaky and quietly, the diabetes could steal away all those things I take for granted and depend on. Reality sometimes seems surreal. How did I get here? When did this start? AND WHY, WITH ALL THE ATTENTION AND CARE I HAVE BEEN PLACING ON MY D, WAS I NOW DECLARED UNCONTROLLED?

I know my A1C will probably still be bad, since it hasn't been that long since the DKA. I now wonder, what other problems they will conjure up out of those little tubes of blood. I can't believe how hard I'm taking this. I cried last night, and was close to tears all day today, even though I KNOW nothing has really changed since Monday. Seeing the reality of how this disease can ravage a body is daunting, and visiting the endo is like admitting that one day, I could fall prey to those dreaded complications. I left feeling defeated and still unaccomplished since I didn't even ask about the pump.

Interestingly, I came home from work this afternoon, with pen needles and boxes of strips greeting me at the door. I had to laugh. It was odd, that laughter. I think in that moment it was like God was reminding me I had tools to take care. It gave me a small bit if solace and I recited the serenity prayer to myself. I am so lucky to have family, insurance, tools, and a team of health care professionals to aid me in keeping my health good, but I know I will never really be satisfied until THERE IS A CURE.

Fear Is Rising

I'm starting to get a little ancy as I tap my fingers, and swing my legs. I simply can't seem to sit still. I have started to dwell and dread the fateful thing I face tomorrow. My Endo appointment.

I don't do this with any other kind of doctor's appointments. While I hate seeing the doctor in general, I never had this sense of doom. Probably because I have always been really healthy, and only now am I having to schedule routine visits and regular blood work. But now, I begin to count down as the day approaches, even more conscious of what I eat and what my numbers are. I even start to log them in for goodness sakes! I know when I finally do get there, my blood pressure and heart rate will skyrocket, and I SWEAR it causes my blood sugar to rise as well. Each time they take my pulse is always over 126 BPM and he always reads this and inspects me with that stethoscope. I can feel them all rising now, as I think about it.

I even go so far as to imagine how the conversation will go and what looks he'll give me. What kinds of things can I say or do to make him think I am in control, and knowledgeable (even if I'm not). I have stepped into my own weird little game where I mentally practice my appointment.

Don't get me wrong, my doctor is really nice, kind of clinical, and I know he's an Incredible doctor. So why should it make me so anxious? This time, I think it is because it will be the first normal visit from all of the DKA mess. Secondly, I am planning to ask about a pump. Third...OK I don' know what third is, but I do know I have ALL THESE QUESTIONS, and less than fifteen minutes to ask them in a non-babbling kind of way, AND get them answered. Talk about pressure.

I have decided to have a plan of attack. I am writing down all "must be answered" questions, so I will not forget. I will have them phrased in a clear and concise matter. I think this will help me, as long as I don't forget to bring the paper I write the questions on!

Trust

I sometimes think that silence is deafening, and unspoken words become like large weights that burden us. I have been residing in my own silence lately. Thinking a little too much, my brain is resembling a hamster running in a wheel. The same thoughts run through my head over and over. especially the topic of trust.

The way he cared for me when I was sick. The way he cheered me up or made me laugh. The way he made me feel safe. Most importantly, the way he made me feel loved. These feelings are so close to the surface of my heart, that I can almost call them up at will. It's amazing how strong emotions seem to replay my memories in technicolor...so vivid and vibrant. I ask myself (as does he) over and over how I can dismiss those feelings. The question then becomes, can you have love without trust?

Admittedly, I have been working through trust issues for awhile. I think that is why this one is weighing so heavy on me. T and I have dated for well over two years. I THOUGHT I knew everything about him. I was so wrong.

We traveled to see his family in Missouri for Christmas. I was so excited to meet his family (soon to be my family) and friends. It seems like the perfect timing. A true celebration of the holidays, our engagement, and a great getaway after that nasty DKA episode. I felt even closer to him as saw the traits he shares with his brothers and parents. In one moment it changed. Everything. Once again my life had taken an unexpected and unwelcome twist. A woman named Karen came knocking on his parents door to hand deliver papers. Divorce papers.

How did I miss that. I knew he had an ex named Karen, but he said he had NEVER been married. All this time he had been legally separated, but in reality I have been seeing a married man. Everyone thought I knew, and there I was feeling like a fool with a week left on this nightmarish vacation. Trust. In the blink of an eye it's gone. The man I had confided my deepest secrets to, shared some of my vulnerable moments, and he didn't trust me enough to share such an integral part of his past with me. This acquisition of those legal papers was just another thing marked off of his wedding TO DO LIST.

It has me questioning everything. Even the nature of my own person. Am I judgemental? Is that why he kept it from me? Does he consider me too delicate to handle this news? What other things will he keep from me? What does that mean for my future? Then I get angry, REALLY ANGRY. Why not divorce before we ever even started dating.

I'm not sure anymore why I still find it so incomprehensible. After all, I can no longer even trust my own body not to harm me. It eats away everyday at the few remaining beta cells within me. It has stopped performing some of the most basic tasks required for living, and I am constantly relearning and adjusting to it's whims. Sometimes I wonder if there is anything left worthy of my trust. I get so bogged down with this circling chain of thoughts, that eventually I just shut down. It's purely emotional overload.

I will have more details, including his excuses later. For now I am content to take solace in the one thing that always makes me smile. My sweet precious puppy, Zoe. You could never see a more perfect example of love.

A New Year

Happy Belated New Year to All!

I have been away quite a while, but I'm planning on making the new year spectacular! (Does it sound like I'm forcing the optimism?) It pretty much has to be, after the way last year ended. DKA, a sinus infection, stress from the holidays, traveling forever, and now a broken engagement (now that's a story, I can't write about just yet), life has to get better. Right?

I'm currently taking the path of denial and determination to plant my feet down firmly so I can gain my balance and move forward with my life (bouncing blood sugars aside). I have been absent in many things as of late, especially hopping around online, and posting on 365. I have still taken my photos, but just seems like I never have the time to post.

After returning home rather tired and broken, I retrieve my mail to find the most special Christmas card from Beth of InSearchOfBalance. Thank you for such an unexpected smile! Beth, you and Daniel are truly special people!

I'm now planning to get back into the groove, with many stories to tell. Some won't be that easy either, but I think it will help me process things a little better. Right now I feel a little like I'm on a plane, heading toward a cruising altitude. I feel the pressure in my head and watch the world blur behind me, as I things race into patterns and lines. Now I have to look ahead and land safely. That is my New Year's resolution.