1 In A Million? Yeah, Most Likely...They Guess/ I Guess & Life Goes On

So, it's been a long week/December and at times, this Diazon feels like she's been run over by a truck. The past two weeks I've been poked; prodded, pinched, examined,shot up with dye,scanned,and scanned again, had a camara jammed down my throat, and a shiny bright light aimed in my face for such long periods, that my good eye saw spots for hours afterwards!

I've been treated by almost every medical professional I've come in cantact with's greatest medical oddity.

I've been cranky, scared and hyper focused on all things medical, to the point of physically and mentally being spent. Stick a freaking fork in me folks, I'M DONE.


Tuesday's follow up visit to the ophthalmologist confirmed what we all know. The vision loss to my right eye is permanent and was not caused by anything diabetes related to the eye. Optho feels it was a 1 in a million thing. It was something I knew and had even stated, but to hear it once again made me well up with sadness and I started to tear up.

On the bright side, my left eye is strong and both retinas are looking fine. Nothing is off limits to me. I can still drive, swim, dive, snorkel, and write a blog. The only thing that's off limits is being an Astronaut, but I'm OK with that because:

1. I can't read a map to save my life so your truly would would truly get lost in space

2. I get motion sickness on roller coasters and from what I hear, the space shuttle makes a roller coaster look like a walk in the park, so NO THANK-YOU!

There IS a 1 in a million chance (a term I've heard way to often as of late,) that my right eye could grow new blood vessels, which I was all types of psyched about.

Until I heard that growth of new blood vessels would result in something called instantaneous glaucoma. So keep your fingers crossed to no new blood vessel growth. Two more visits to the ophthalmologist in the next two months and then I can cross it off my things to do list for until August.


Wednesday was the TEE, or Trans Esophageal Echocardiogram and all of your advice regarding my insulin pump and fasting was a God send. THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!

I've never, ever had to be put under for anything and was very nervous-especially regarding the fasting.

Being told that I could not eat after midnight, or they won't be able to do the procedure, stressed me out because all I kept thinking was, WHAT IF MY BLOOD SUGAR DROPS AND I HAVE TO EAT?

Prepping for Wednesday of course meant that Tuesday nights blood sugars ran high due for no reason WHAT SO EVER. My guess is that the high numbers were brought on by stress.

From 4pm Tuesday until 10 pm I couldn't get my blood sugar below 260 and that was freaking me out big time. I NEVER RUN THAT HIGH. I was afraid to screw around with my basal rates because I was afraid of eventually hitting a knock-down low that would have me running for the peanut butter and 1/2 of banana at 2 am.

When my numbers finally started to drop, they dropped fast. By 11:30 PM I was 180 and decided to eat a breakfast bar and a cheese stick sans bolusing. I wanted to go into Wednesdays procedure with a bloodsugar level between 160 and 170.

At 3:57 am on Wednesday, I woke up and tested, and my blood sugar, it was 216. I didn't bolus and went back to sleep.

At 6:15 I woke up and my blood sugar was 180. By the time I arrived at the hospital at 7:30 my blood sugar was 170. At 8:30 and 9am it held fast at 160.

As they were hooking me up to monitors I cracked jokes with the attending Fellow Dr Rodriguiz who giggled appropriately.

I was nervous to get put under and became a bit OCD regarding my numbers. I told the prep nurse to do a fingerstick test a 1/2 hour into the procedure and she thought that that was a great ideal and promised that she'd do it, which made me feel better.

Next ,the Anesthesiologist wanted to know "on average" what my numbers were daily. When I told her that that info would depend on the day, and it's level of activity, stress, food, etc and that no two days with diabetes are the same, she was less than amused.

I did tell her that my last a1c was 6.8 and that seamed to placate her...UNTIL I mentioned the fingerstick test.

When I told the Anesthesiologist about wanting a fingerstick test done during the middle of the procedure, she was less than pleased and had no problem letting me know that.
She told me in a VERY bitch like tone: You took your blood sugar a 1/2 hour ago and it was 160, there's no need to take it again.

I looked her straight in the eye and responded with: Look, I've never put under for any medical procedure before and there's a chance my sugar could drop. I won't be able to tell you what's going on, so I NEED you to do a test a 1/2 hour into the procedure. If the prep nurse doesn't have a problem with it, why do you?

Anesthesiologist: OK, fine we'll take a finger stick test a 1/2 into the procedure- but it's really not necessary.

Me: Great.

After that, I was given some gelatinous, gross, goop to numb my throat, which I promptly choked on and spit out. The goop had the consistantsy of Spackle and gargling with it was not an option. Dr. Rodriguez then took an atomiser with a 1 foot long nozzle and gingerly jammed it down my throat, spraying a liquid form of said gelatinous gross goop around the throat area.
Next, I met the Cardiologist (Dr. Cohen) who was going to do the TEE. He was a jokester & wanted to know what in the heck made me decide to have a retinal ocular occlusion!

Then they hooked my nose up with an oxygen tube and put an oxygen mask on me.

And then they placed a blue mouth guard in my mouth so they could guide the camera down my throat more easily. The mouth guard made it very difficult to talk, and I was glad of that. I was afraid that the drugs they were giving me would allow my thoughts on the anesthesiologist (total bitch with an attitude that she should have left at home) to go from my directly from my brain and out past my lips- no good would come of that.

After that- I was in la-la land.

When I woke up, I felt sleepy, but good. I was told my blood sugar held at 166 during the TEE and that my test went well. Arteries look VERY good, with minor thickening of the aorta most likely due to genetics/diabetes and that it was nothing that would cause my crazy Retinal occlusion.

Then I had to wait 24 hours for my Cardiologist Dr T to call to see the tests before I could say for 100 % if I was indeed a 1 in a million case.

Dr. T called me late Thursday afternoon and said that the test results looked good and that they could give me no reason as to why what happened. I was concerned about the "slight thickening of the aorta w/plack" but Dr T said: On a scale of 1 to 4, with 1 being the best, 2 being mild, 3 being moderate and 4 being a complete blockage, I was considered 1 and in great shape.

Plus, my corroded artery test showed that my corroded were in great shape, and Dr T felt that that those tests were a great indicator of the bodies vascular system as a whole.

"Basically Kelly, we can't give you a definitive answer as to why this happened because we just don't know and most likely, we'll never have a probable answer as to why this happened to you. Might of been this, could have been that, we just don't know."


I had to admit, I was grateful, but still very nervous and scared. I continue to think about all the "what if's."

What if it happens again?
What if it happens to my good eye?
What if I didn't love bacon so much?
What if I'd taken more of this medication or less of that one?
What if, what if, WHAT IF!!

The whole "what if" thing was and is driving me nuts to the point of keeping me awake at night. During the day I've been bombarded with moments of grief and fear, and moments of complete and utter exasperation and sheer exhaustion.

I've also been blessed with many moments of love, compassion, prayers, and humor.

Bottom line, life goes on and bad shit sometimes happens to good people. I could let this rule my world and let it stop me in my tracks, or I can continue to move forward with life and celebrate all that life has to offer.

I've decided to move forward and get back to the business of living.

The whole eye thing might indeed be 1 in a million, but I'm 1 in a million in more ways then one DAMN IT, and not just because of my eye "issue".

I've embraced my 1 in a million status...and I'm more than OK with it- because life is beautiful and any way you look at it, I'm 1 lucky lady!