I went to my endo last week, and had my blood drawn, as is pretty normal. Today I got the results of my blood work. Let me just day, I knew it was going to be bad news. My blood sugar has been all over the place. I have a brand new allergy (?) issue that is still being figured out. For now I'll blame that, and the bone infection I got overnight from a suddenly abscessed tooth. I went an entire week where I couldn't get my BG under 200 without rage bolusing and eating absolutely nothing. It was nearly as bad as the week I had to be on steroids. I tried all the dummy strategies: new insulin, new set/reservoir from new box, injecting correction boluses. I had very minor results. But, I got my A1C back, and it was bad. How bad? 8.9 bad. EIGHT POINT FREAKING NINE. Fuuuuuuuuh.
While going over these episodes of complete diabetes garbage with my endo, I said I knew I shouldn't have, but I just got so frustrated at seeing those bad numbers so I stopped testing as much (I didn't stop, but I cut my testing in half). Then she said something to me that inexplicably made me feel better. It wasn't a calming platitude, though. She said, "when you get mad at your numbers and can't figure it out, that's when you call me and we'll figure it out."
I suppose that's how it's supposed to work, really, this doctor-PWD relationship. Every endo I've had in my adult life has sucked pretty spectacularly. For the first time since high school, I feel like I actually have someone at my back. I know it's up to me to keep up with the day-to-day, but it's good to know your doctor is actually going to help you. My last endo was so distant he barely talked to me when I was in his office. He talked at me a lot. That didn't help.
Now I'm off to do things that will "improve my health" as recommended by my primary care doc. That means eating nothing, vacuuming (allergens), washing my sheets, and something, something, see someone else it's not his problem. Guess which doctor I'm replacing next!
While going over these episodes of complete diabetes garbage with my endo, I said I knew I shouldn't have, but I just got so frustrated at seeing those bad numbers so I stopped testing as much (I didn't stop, but I cut my testing in half). Then she said something to me that inexplicably made me feel better. It wasn't a calming platitude, though. She said, "when you get mad at your numbers and can't figure it out, that's when you call me and we'll figure it out."
I suppose that's how it's supposed to work, really, this doctor-PWD relationship. Every endo I've had in my adult life has sucked pretty spectacularly. For the first time since high school, I feel like I actually have someone at my back. I know it's up to me to keep up with the day-to-day, but it's good to know your doctor is actually going to help you. My last endo was so distant he barely talked to me when I was in his office. He talked at me a lot. That didn't help.
Now I'm off to do things that will "improve my health" as recommended by my primary care doc. That means eating nothing, vacuuming (allergens), washing my sheets, and something, something, see someone else it's not his problem. Guess which doctor I'm replacing next!
No comments:
Post a Comment