Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Dear Endo...

Dear Endo,
Yet again, I walk through your double doors, expecting to hear angels singing, while feeling the white, warm light, shining down on my face. It is fitting after all, since I have place you on this pedestal, that sits high enough to be in the heavens. No other doctor, compares to you. You are the only one who can see the true me, the sick me, even though that is not how I feel or look.

I approach, awaiting my judgment day. I get ready to stand before your nurses, with high blood pressure and nerves, hoping you will, sometime soon, grace me with your presence.

I prepare, plan and wait for this moment, each time that I come. Sometimes, just thinking about this moment scares me into submission, and other times, it leads me to rebel.

I am anxious, and eager to hear what you have to say. Each time, I hope that your answers will dramatically change my life in a profound way. Secretly, I know you have the cure to that sick side, that I hide. With each question I ask, I am chipping away slowly to the perfect treatment, or permanent solution that you hold somewhere in that room, that has the damn scale.

Instead, I am brought back down to reality. There is no singing. The only white light is coming from obscenely fluorescent lights. The nurses are dripping in hospital blue and sporting crocs instead of halos. My blood pressure and BG are the only thing rising to the heavens at this moment.

My judgment comes with a new, in house, A1c machine that immediately sucked, after it delivered a number of 11.4 (note to self.. in heaven, it wouldn't have moved from 5.8)

And then you enter my room, slightly shorter than I remember, with a speed and demeanor that said you weren't taking questions. You balk at me, offer no answers, and then request to babysit me and my basals by having me fax my logs daily. You finally entertain my question about the problem behind me, and can tell me little. When I press you about the lipoatrophy, you get annoyed, leave the room and do a consult next door. Your loud voices, carry to my room, and I now know, none of you have actually seen it in practice. After a little referencing, you return with a anecdote of, "It's just a random side effect of the insulin. Let me know if it happens again and we'll change your insulin again"

I leave now realizing (once again) that you are not a god. I care, and know more about MY health than anyone - even you. This disease is mine, and I am responsible for it completely.

I leave today feeling so grateful for all the info and support from my DOC community, that far surpass your "team" that treat my disease. I wonder why I need to see you so often, but I've decided, that you can write my scripts and order my tests. period.


asskeeper said...

I hate to tell you this but all endos are buttheads not Gods!!!!

Sara said...

Bummer experience with the endo, and I wish I could tell you it won't happen again - but I've fired too many endos to believe that!
Finally sent in my registration for CWD. I think a vacation like that is just what you need! :)

Connie said...

I am the mother of two daughters who have Type 1 diabetes, my oldest was diagnosed 1 year ago in April,she was 2 years old at the time and my baby was just diagnosed 2 months ago. I feel so upset for you, to have an Endo that dismisses you like that is unbelievable! My daughters have been SOOO blessed with an incredible pediatric endo, her entire team have been amazing. When my baby was diagnosed recently the nurses AND receptionist cried for me when I walked into the office! The hugs and tears for my family were so shocking yet so appreciated. I knew that they truly cared. I hope that you will find a endo who truly cares and helps you, this is a disease that leaves me terrified at times and I think you need the support of your medical team to help you successfully manage it. I don't know if you can, but I would look into trying to find another dr. who you feel comfortable with...they are out there, the good ones.