Feeling Stressed During The Holidays? You Are Not Alone!

YAAASSS
Also: Pic via the interwebz

It’s the holidays - lots of running around, trying to finish up end of year work projects (speaking of - please check out my 3 part series covering the Diabetes Tech Meetings over at Ascensia,) getting our ducks in a row for the new year, while shopping, cooking, and figuring out all the holiday logistics. 

Diabetes - factors into our end of year craziness too. 

Cramming in last-minute doctors appointments, getting our end-of-year Rx’s filled - or at least trying too - many running into roadblocks when it comes to end of year durable medical equipment Rx approval and delivery - before January 1 and a new deductible rolls around - and trying not to lose our shit in the process.

Navigating the holiday carb party extravaganza, including explaining that “yes we can eat that,” because we have done a lot of work, including all the diabetes math, in order to have those Christmas Cookies/wine/and or whatever else is on our plate. 

Not to mention dealing with blood sugars in all dimensions because there are at least 42 different factors that impact our blood sugars. 

For some, the holidays bring up family dynamics that are complicated and anything but happy. 

Many others are feeling the tremendous loss of loved ones that only the holiday season can bring. 

For some this holiday season is the toughest part in the year of firsts without the person they love. For others, the loss and sadness pops up again … and just when they thought they were OK. 

If you’re feeling stressed, overwhelmed, or sad re: all of the above and or things not mentioned above - that’s OK. 

You are allowed to. 

You are doing your best. 

You are not alone. 

You are human. 

You are magnificent. 

Diabetes & Pain-In-The-Ass, Administrative Tenacity

Since mid-November, and right up until yesterday afternoon (December 19th,) I’ve spent countless hours on the phone re: health insurance, prescription Rx’s being refilled; squeezing in final, end-of -year Endo and eye doctor’s appointments. 

Not to mention 4 hours and five different weekly phone calls with Edgepark re: my end of year test-strip RX - before I was finally given a ship-date yesterday afternoon - and after being on hold for 22 minutes. 

A three month supply of test strips will be shipped out December 21st. 
Fingers crossed and we shall see.

As of today, December 20th, I’m still waiting for one more DME authorization - it’s a new one, fingers crossed it will approved and billed before the end of the year. 
More to follow. 

These are the things that no one tells you about when it comes to living with diabetes or other chronic illnesses - the time spent on the phone, the hours spent on hold, in order to stay healthy. Thankless and frustrating tasks that we have no choice but to do because our health depends on it.

I try and schedule most of these calls and or tasks around lunch - so it doesn’t cut into my work time too much. I eat my lunch while on hold and my with trusty notebook and pen near by to take notes re: any and all information - including current issue, CS name, refill/ship dates, and the likes there of. 

And I immediately schedule follow up calls in my iPhone calendar as soon as I hang up. 
It's stressful, it's annoying, and like you, I do it because I don't have a choice! 

And lets not forget all the stupid insurance or third party admin mistakes that have nothing to do with us - but impact us directly. 

Like my insurance billing me for a separate visit to UrgentCare 4 days after I received stitches on my foot back in April. 
I was mistakenly billed for a new visit, except i wasn't a new visit -it was follow up visit, which according to UrgentCare, all follow up visits for a specific injury are free of charge up until 10 days out .Since I had 10 freaking stitches on the top of my foot, of course I went back several times to make sure it was healing properly, and to get my stitches out. For some reason it's not computing and even though all the dates line up. 
So incase anyone hasn’t told you as of late - GREAT JOB AND WELL DONE re: all the pain-in-the-ass, administrative tenacity that diabetes requires - not just in December, but 365 days a year! 

BRAVA for multitasking during your endless hours on hold, and fuck yeah, for your tenacity  - diabetes and otherwise, and for never taking NO as your final answer! 

Standing Ovation Clap GIF from Standingovation GIFs

Diabetes Friends, Pod Changes, And A Lost Bottle Of Insulin

Last Friday night I spent time with local diabetes friends - a family who lived in the next town over. The timing was right and my Omnipod was about to run out. 

A few weeks back, I’d offered to fill a new pod/do a site change in front of the Dmama and t1 AlmostTweenT1 daughter so they’d know what to expect when they went for Omnipod training. Friday morning I texted Dmama, and told her I’d be changing my site between 4:30 and 5:30. If it was good for them, I ‘d stop over. If it wasn’t, we could schedule for another day.

People with diabetes do that. We show-off and explain our hardware; share experiences and help one another out when diabetes is being bitchy. 

We share because we “get it.” We speak the language of diabetes and in the same diabetes dialect. And it’s comforting.   

Those are just some of the gifts of our D community — both online and off - and I love and am so incredibly grateful for those gifts. 

Friday morning I packed my diabetes bag with my almost new bottle of insulin — as in I’d used it exactly twice. 

Plus 2 pods, extra skin-tac, and my PDM and test strips , which were already in my diabetes bag. . 

I was good to go. 

7 hours later I knocked on their door and we caught up on life and life with diabetes.

I also learned that American Girl sold Doll manicure kits with “real nail polish for the dolls and that they only cost $10.”  Also: Said manicure kit came with some hideous looking (at least it looked damn hideous on the computer screen), bubblegum pink nail-polish, that would thankfully wash off.

But to each her own. 

45 minutes later, with 3 units left in my old pod and 2 hours until my current pod officially expired, my friends watched as I cancelled out my old pod; filled the new pod with insulin, went through the PDM prompts, and prepped the skin on my left arm with skin-tac. 

Dmama asked questions and my assistant AlmostTweenT1, pressed the PDM button after each prompt and only after I gave her the OK. 

We were done in a snap. 

AlmostTweenT1 smiled and said “COOL,” then went to go play with her brothers.

I checked my blood sugar: 146. Dmama  offered me a juice- box. I did and bolused for it, and we kept talking.

20 minutes later I started packing up and came THIS CLOSE to forgetting my insulin. 

I didn’t - and made sure it was tucked safely in both its box and my diabetes bag before I zipped it up tight in my diabetes bag and tossed it in my handbag.

We said our goodbyes and promised to meet up in a few weeks. 

I went home, put my box of almost new insulin in the fridge immediately and completely forgot about it. 

Cut to Monday morning when I woke up with an itchy site and a 300 blood sugar. 

My arm site had crapped out with 12 hours to go and 13 units left. 

Shit happens and I went to grab my insulin. 

Which I did… except the box was empty, the insulin bottle was missing. 

I checked the fridge shelf where every bottle of insulin I open makes it’s temporary home - NOTHING. 

I checked in the veggie drawer where my unopened bottles of insulin live. 

I looked on every shelf in my fridge, and then under it. SO GROSS. 

Then I looked on my kitchen floor and under my stove. 

I dumped out my diabetes bag, handbag, and work bag. NADA. 

The clock was ticking, my blood sugar was high, and I needed to get in the shower. 

I also needed coffee. So I temporarily shoved the lost bottle of insulin to the back of my mind,  opened a new bottle of insulin and did what I had to do. 

I knew how lucky I was to have extra insulin bottles in my fridge. 

The cost of one bottle of insulin kept running through my head and the thought of losing one bottle made me sick to my stomach. 

 I looked for that damn bottle of insulin for two days. 

I KNEW I hadn’t left it at my friends. 

A. She would have texted me ASAP.

B. I knew that if I texted and asked if they’d found an extra opened bottle of insulin, my Dmama friend would worry. 

I didn't want that. 

Plus, I was worrying enough for the both of us. 

Last night I came home and kept thinking about that damn bottle - I had a feeling I’d find it 6 months later and in a place I never thought to look. 

Maybe it fell out of my bag as I was going up the steps. I checked in my stairwell and up my stairs. NOTHING. I flipped the cushions on the couch and then checked under it. ZILCH.

And if it was in my car — it was cooked. 

I thought about what if I didn't have backup - and what if I'd had to explain losing a bottle of insulin - the very stuff that keeps me alive to my insurance company - and I knew they would tell me that I was SOL. 

I took a hot shower, put on my pajamas and flipped through NetFlix. 

Before I went to bed I decided to check near the fridge one more time. Nothing. 

But something made me look in my pantry — which I’d already looked in multiple times. 

And there in the corner —  on my white and gray patterned floor…. was my white labeled bottle of insulin — blending in so well I could barely see it.

I washed the bottle under cold water, then swabbed it with alcohol. 

When it was dry, I marked it with a purple Sharpie , so I’d know to use that bottle first. 

And I was thankful.
I was so tired, but I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about others who weren't lucky -  because they couldn't afford insulin or were forced to ration insulin and  are no longer here.

Holiday Travel: The Time I forgot My Medical ID 300 Miles Into A 700Mile Road Trip.

I started writing this article about 10 days ago, then I had surgery.

Most of my stitches were removed to day - more on that later.

Anyway, here’s what happened to me on my Thanksgiving road trip and some disclosure. 

####

On the drive home and wearing my Lauren's Hope bracelet the Saturday after Thankgiving, somewhere
in North Carolina - I-40 

I love to travel. 

I’ve been to a boatload of countries and an “OK” number of states. 

I fly a lot and as much as I hate airports, I can navigate them - for the most part. 

Trains? I’m cool with trains - I love taking trains. 

I’ve gone on lots of road trips in my life. Some good; some great, some neither, all memorable. 

But I’ve never actually done a solo -beyond my local tri-state area, road trip. 

Maybe it has something to do with my irrational fear of reading maps, maybe in a past life I became lost on a journey and never made it to my destination, maybe it’s because I’ve gotten lost and ended up in some gnarly parts of cities and states where I thought no one would ever find me. 

Or maybe it’s because I’m a big effing baby, but whatever.

Drop me in the middle of an unknown city on foot, and I can figure it out no problem. 

Tell me I have to drive to and around a city I’ve never been to and I start to get anxiety. 

Needless to say, GPS navigational systems have been a game changer for me - I don't worry about getting lost anymore.

In September I was invited to my cousins in South Carolina for Thanksgiving and I decided I was going to drive instead of fly. 

I was going to bypass the mess that is Philadelphia International Airport at Thanksgiving, and get out of my comfort zone re: driving long distances by myself.

Yep, I was going to drive the between 600 and 700 miles each way solo because I'm a big, brave, grownup lady.

I mapped out my route (thank you talking Google Maps,) for the more than 600, but less than 700 mile journey each way, booked my hotel, (could not deal with doing it all in one day,) had my car checked over, and marked the departure date on my calendar. 

The night before the trip I finished packing everything. Clothes; extra diabetes supplies, gifts for my cousins children and a special bread from a local bakery that shall remain nameless. 

Then I put my laptop/charger in my work bag, placed my Lauren’s Hope medical ID bracelet next to my charging phone and went to bed.

The next morning I loaded my car up with my luggage, computer bag, bread, and a cooler packed with apples, water, kind bars, and baby carrots. 

And after several false starts, I pulled out of my driveway at 10 a.m.
Cut to 4:30 pm and me checking into my Richmond, VA hotel and settling in my room. 
That would be when I noticed I wasn’t wearing my ID bracelet. 

No big deal, I figured it was in my makeup bag... except when I checked it wasn’t. 

And I got nervous. 

Did I lose it or was it still at home? 

What if something happened while I was driving to The Carolinas ?

I remembered a time when I hated wearing medical IDs and would only wear one when I traveled. But things change and we live and learn. 

I tried not to think about it and went down to the lobby to meet a friend for dinner.

The next morning I was on the road by 11 a.m. and all was going well - Thank you talking google maps! 

FYI: When you're drive long ass distances by yourself you have a lot of time to think. 

You think about the beautiful scenery, and you think about your life and the roads not traveled, blah, blah, blah. 

And you keep thinking about traveling the day before the busiest travel day of the year and the "what if’s" of not having your medical ID bracelet on your wrist. 

Basically you become hyper focused on all the horrible things that can happen on the road, at a rest stop, anywhere and not being able to let anyone know about your diabetes, etc. 

FTR: I have D and non D medical info noted on my Lauren's Hope Medical ID bracelets. 

When I reached I-40 I had a 140 miles to think about all of the above before I needed to consult with Google maps - and the more I thought about not having my bracelet, the more uncomfortable I got.

BOTTOM LINE: I FREAKED. 

My somewhat irrational fear of driving almost 700 miles by myself was replaced by the very real fear of not having my medical ID on my person.

I was mad at myself for forgetting my bracelet.

And I was scared.

60 miles into the uninterrupted 140, I stopped for gas. 

Then I went through my email contact list and called my contact at Lauren’s Hope and left her a message. It was my “hope” that she could overnight a bracelet to my cousins house - if that was even a possibility on their end. 

120 miles into the 140, my contact called me back and I pulled over to the side of the road and told her my dilemma. 

She listened, calmed me down, and told me that they overnight jewelry all the time. 

I gave her my cousins address and she told me that she’d send me a gold colored steel cuff. 

I felt better and I felt safe. 

After getting stuck in crazy traffic the last 40 miles of my journey, I made it to my cousins house, the Tuesday before Thanksgiving at dinner time. 

The next day, at 1pm, EST my Lauren’s Hope bracelet arrived via FedEx - which impressed me on many levels because hello, it was the day before Thanksgiving and who the hell wants to drive in that mess.

Also, I wish I could have given the FedEx person a hug, but they didn’t ring the doorbell - which I understand, because THANKSGIVING WEDNESDAY.

Anyway, I wore my bracelet on my wrist for the rest of the trip.

My Thanksgiving was wonderful and happy and my family made me laugh like crazy . 

The trip back home stretched out over two days and except for the crazy traffic on 95 once I hit Baltimore - everything went off without a hitch. 

I’m confident that I can drive anywhere now - as long I have a talking GPS at my fingertips. 

And I’ve decided to leave one of my LH medical ID bracelets ( I own 4,) in my locked glove compartment because I never want to worry like that again. 

I don’t want worrying about the what-ifs (diabetes or otherwise,) to hold me back from traveling and exploring life.   

Disclosure1: Lauren's Hope didn't charge me for my bracelet. 
I told them I was going to write about what happened because I was so damn grateful and felt/still feel that if it could happen to me, it could happen to you and knowing that there's a solution is key.
 I didn't expect anything in return, but it was nice gesture and greatly appreciated.  

Disclosure 2: I own four LH bracelets (3 before Thanksgiving,) and after my road trip, I decided to become a LH affiliate.

That means I will get a very small percentage if you place an order with LH, via clicking on their here.

Any money earned will go towards domain renewals for both diabetesaliciousness and IwishPeopleKnewThatDiabetes.Org .

You can learn about LH affiliates program, HERE. 
You can read disclosure policies of this blog, HERE. 

I never want you to think I'm not being honest, so I'm telling you upfront. 

Lastly, it doesn't matter to me where you or your loved ones get your medical IDs. 

What matters most to me is that you and your loved ones actually WEAR your medical IDs - and if you forget to bring yours on a trip or lose it while traveling, you're able to have a replacement sent to you within 24 hours. 

Diabetes, Family History And The Stress Of A Stress Test

 An insider look at what went on in my head before, during, and after my stress test.  

It’s also a great primer on using your words wisely as HealthCare Professional. 

#####

I didn’t sleep well the night before my stress test. 

Nerves, combined with the third day of out of the blue, higher than normal blood sugars resulting in copious amounts of insulin, especially in the evening, followed by 3 am crashes, did not make for being well rested. 

I was tired as I drove the 45 minutes to the cardiologist's office - I'd never been to the practice's Satellite office and Siri did an excellent job of getting me there. 

I arrived 10 minutes early and tried to relax by taking deep breaths and watching Family Feud that was on the big screen TV in the lobby. 

25 minutes later the nurse came to get me. She apologized for the wait and told me that it was her first day at this branch. 

“That’s Ok, me too. We’ll figure it out together,” I said. 

We walked into the exam room filled with a treadmill and monitors and I immediately recognized the Technician who would be administering the stress test. 

It was Eastern European Dude, the same guy who had administered my stress test back back in 2012. 

I totally remembered him. I also remembered flipping out so bad from the fear of the what ifs that my sister had to calm me down so I wouldn’t burst into tears. 

When you have a crap family history combined with a chronic illness, it’s easy to let the what ifs drive you crazy - and I almost had. 

Of course I didn’t remind him of that - I just smiled and said hello. 

The nurse draws back the curtains in the room, tells me undress from the waist up and hands me a blue gown and says “flaps in the front,” and closes the curtain. 

I hate this part - I hate that I have to be partially naked and totally exposed in front of 3 strangers for a test that scares the fuck out of me.

My nerves are making me breath deeper and I tell her I’m ready. 

She opens the curtain, steps in and closes again. 

She puts foul smelling gelatinous gel on my chest that will help the  sticky part of the leeds, stick and stay. 

We walk over to the treadmill and I stand on it. 

We go over my impressive family history and the nurse clips a heavy belt around my waist and plugs the leeds from chest into the belt. Then she gingerly clips my insulin pump onto the belt so I would have to take it off. 

She explains the Stress Test.

3 minute increments of speed and varying inclines on the treadmill, starting out low and slow and reaching speeds of fast and on an incline. 

My blood pressure and heart rate will continue to be monitored the whole time. 

When the treadmill stops - they will literally throw me on a table and Eastern European Eastern European Dude have less than 2 minutes to get images of my heart and its chambers.

Those images will tell us if my heart is healthy and if there are any blockages around the heart. 

She finishes by telling me that if I feel anything that doesn’t feel right, I am to press the red button and we will stop immediately. 

I think back to 2012,  I was on there for about 16 minutes, the last few minutes I was running the treadmill at top speed and at an incline of 13 - everyone in the room was telling me how great I was doing and that my heart was as strong as a horse. 

4 years later and I wonder what will happen this time.

Yep, I know the drill. 

I think of my father and his brothers - skinny men with skinny legs and blocked arteries. 

I think of my mother - a scarlet fever baby with a damaged heart muscle, who became a Pro skater and mother of 6 - all with an arrhythmic heart that beat to it's own drum.

I think of her mother who died from heart issues and her father, a lumberjack who owned the mill and had a heart attack in the snow on Christmas Day and refused to die. 

Instead, he crawled for 2 miles in the snow until he got to his competitors camp. 

They snowmobiled him to the hospital and he lived another 35 years. 

I think of other family members.

I remind myself that I come from strong stock and that knowledge is power. 

I stand on the treadmill, both hands on the bar and practice my yoga breathing. 

I watch my heart rate on the monitor and the numbers keep going between 88 beats per minute and 104. 

My nerves are fucking with me big time now. 

I close my eyes and think of ocean waves and breathing with their ebb and flow. 

Dr. X walks in with a smile on his face - and immediately says: Hi, I’m Dr. O andmygoodness you’re too young for this test! 

My eyes flicker to the monitor screen and my heart rate jumps to 106 beats per minute and my yoga breathing goes out the window. 

I want to scream at him for saying that because I’m stressed enough and his words are making things worse. 

But I can't because it's a fucking stress test.

Instead I take a deep breath, smile and tell him that I have shitty family history and that my cardiologist likes to have an updated road map of my heart so I can remain healthy.

I try my best not to shed a tear, but I feel my face turning red. 

Then I tell him I have WhiteCoat Syndrome and that he should be prepared

Dr. X takes my blood pressure and says: I see that. 

I can tell he knows that he made a mistake. 

He’s a nice guy and he’s trying to make things right. He asks me about my summer and asks me if I've been to the beach. I tell him that I love to swim and body surf and he seems impressed.
He asks me how the waves have been and I mention storms brewing in the the Atlantic. 

Then he tells that my numbers are going to go up during this test - which is what they are supposed to do and not to worry. 

The test starts and I walk the treadmill and I try and think about the ocean because it makes me calm.

 For some reason I keep breathing heavy - and it's unusual and weird and it makes me worry. 

Dr. X asks me if I always breathe deep like that when I work out.

I tell him no - and I tell him that I'm scared. 

He tells me he 'gets it, and that it’s my nerves and that I’m doing great. 

We talk about exercise and the heatwave and I tell him my workout schedule has been shitty.

“Everyones has,” he says and tells me not to worry. 

The incline goes up and I go faster - not at a running pace yet, but close. 

I want to run. I want to run off the treadmill, out of the exam and run as far away as humanly possible.

But knowledge is power, even if obtaining that knowledge is stressful and scary. 

9 minutes in they give me a 30 second STOP warning. 

30 seconds later, the treadmill stops, I lie on the exam table next to the treadmill and turn on my left side and with my left arm up.

Eastern European Dude jumps on top of me puts something cold under my left breast and tells me to take a deep breath and hold my breath. 

I do. 

“Now release, then take another deep breath, let a little out and hold!” 

And I do. 

And then I do it again, and again, and again, and again, and again. 

Then it’s over. 

I sit up on the table and mutter to myself, “you're not even going to buy me dinner?”

The Dr stand in front of me tells me that all is well, that everything looks great. 

My heart is strong - no blockages. 

He points out the my blood pressure is decreasing at a great rate and is now lower than before the test.

“Are you sure? Then why didn’t I get to run this time?”

He explains that my graphs were great and that the info they were giving was just what that wanted -  and that my leeds were close to giving feedback (not the good kind, the kind that would make us start the test all over again,) so they stopped. 

“Also, your nerves made your blood pressure on the high side - which happens - so we stopped. You’re great and you did great. I’ll write up your report, send it to your Cardiologist and you’ll get a copy too. You're OK, Kel.” 

I get ready to leave, say my goodbyes and sit in the lobby and answer 3 text messages and some emails. I’m calm now. I’m good. I am A-OK. 

I get up from my seat, walk through the automatic doors of the building and into to the sun. My eyes start to tear and I try to not Oprah ugly cry it, in the parking lot. 

I am good, all is fucking fantastic, I am luckier than many and I know it. 

But the staying well, the being strong and the what ifs of it all, have gotten to me as of late and right now they are hard to shake. 

I sit my car and breathe deep - and just as I put my keys in the ignition, I hear the Dr’s voice in my head saying; “Ohmygoodness, you’re too young to be here.” 

And I respond  out loud to the voice in my head like I'd wanted to respond in the room. 

“I am here because I want to stay healthy.

I am here because I have a shitty family history and type 1 diabetes and I’ve been working my damnedest to stay healthy.

I am here and you're a nice guy and you seem like a good Doctor, but you need to work on your greeting, because right now you made my heart rate increase and God only knows what you’re doing to my blood pressure.

I am here because I want to stay healthy, so please watch what you say and help me do that.” 

And then I drive home, but stop halfway tand dictate a version of this post onto my phone's voice recorder. 

 I had let it all out before I could let it go and continue on my journey. 

A Breakdown Of The Stress Before The Endo Appointment ~

Yep, I get stressed and anxious weeks before my Endo appointment  - Am I the only one?? 

######

22 day until my next endo appointment and the anxiety about the appointment has accompanied me for at least a week. 

I look at the date on my calendar and tell myself not to worry, not to stress and remind myself that these visits are good for my health - And that my Endo Dr J is wonderful - And for the record, I know all of this to be true. 

But the anxiety still radiates through me whenever I think about it - It always has - for every Endo appointment since 3rd grade - And most likely always will. 

The fear of the unknown and the known, the judgement  - both real and imagined and the the pressure I put on myself - And The Diabetes What Ifs. 

What if my labs are bad? 

What if my a1c is high? 

What if they discover something else wrong with me? 

What if I follow in  my sister Debbie's footsteps? 

What if my endo gets mad me - Or worse yet, disappointed in me? 

I hate that I let the stress get to me - Quite frankly, it pisses me off.

And I know Dr. J has the best bedside manor on the planet - he is there to help me, not to judge  - but to help. He never yells, never scolds, never tells me I can’t. 

Dr. J is an Endo that sees the diabetes glass half full and believes in his patients - And I know that to be true because I’ve experienced first hand - Every time I go to an Endo appointment.  But still..... The anxiety level regarding my endo appointment - my health in general is there - And the build up will continue. 

In a week, maybe 10 days from today, I will figure out when to do my fasting labs and as the lab day approaches I will stress about it. 

I will worry about breaking the fast due to a low blood sugar at 12:15 am for my 7 am lab appointment the next day. I will worry about blood work and creatine levels and  The Diabetes What Ifs will have their way with me. 

And the night before my lab work I will most likely be craving mexican or some other food that causes havic with my blood sugar - And will probably end up eating an omelette and toast instead. 
Before I go to bed I will check my blood sugar and if I need a correction bolus - I will most likely not give the full amount - Because I don't what to go low in the middle of the night and have to start the blasted fasting process all over again. 

I will talk myself down and tell myself to chill out and I will visualize good lab-work in all dimensions.

I will wake up early the next morning  and drink 15 ounces of water to fatten up the veins in my arms, not to mention keep my bladder full. I will shower and dress and suck down another 12 to 15 ounces of water in the car. I will park and utter “it’s show time” as I exit my car. And as I walk through Labcore’s building I will put on my brave face - But I will be nervous as hell inside. 

The labs will hopefully be quick and I will rush back home, grab coffee and breakfast and go to work. 

I will breathe a sigh of relief and do my best to go on about my business. 

But still, as my Endo appointment draws near, I will worry about my lab-work and lab-core - because there’s a 50/50 work they won’t deliver the my paperwork to my Endo’s office on time. 

And during those anxious 7 days before my appointment I will think about my sister who is no longer here - And I will wish I’d had more patience with her - And I will continually tell myself that we both did the best we could with the tools we had when it came to our diabetes and our lives. 

Finally, the day before the appointment arrives and I will make a list of questions for Dr. J - because I will be nervous when I see him and I don’t want to forget anything I want to talk to with him about. 

As I drive the hour to my appointment I will battle traffic and my Diabetes What If demons - I’ll practice yoga breathing and listen to music that will make me happy. 

I will struggle to find parking in the crowded city and I when I enter my Endo’s building I will make small chat with mustached security guard as I sign in. 

I will breathe deep and try to think good thoughts in the elevator and as I reach the 6th floor I will put a smile on my face and once again I will silently say to myself: It’s show time.

I will sign the patient register, wait for my name to be called and pay my redonkulous co-pay and  then sit down and wait to be called by a tech to be weighed; have my blood pressure taken and my blood sugar tested. 

I will worry that the clothesI wore are to “heavy for the scale,” but will remind myself that they take 2 lbs off for clothes and shoes.

And with that being said - I will make sure to remove my shoes before I get on the scale just the same. 

After being weighed ,the tech will take me back to the lab and ask what my last blood sugar was and when it was taken  - And no matter what, I will answer truthfully. 

If my blood sugar was within the hour, they’ll skip the office test and go right to taking my blood pressure. 

And then I will tell the tech that I have terrible White Coat Syndrome when it comes to my blood pressure and that she or he will probably have to check twice. 

 I will most likely think of the beach and swimming in the ocean and practice yoga breathing as the blood pressure cuff gets tighter. 

Finally, I will be led into an exam room and left to my own devices until the Attending come in. 

I will read the diabetes signage on the wall and maybe tweet or Instagram something diabetes related to calm my nerves.

Finally the Attending will enter, introduce his or her self and ask me about my family history of diabetes (and will most likely be shocked when I explain my background,)  pump settings, blood sugars and any concerns I might have. 

 I will crack self deprecating jokes to keep it light - Even when my questions are anything but. 

Then the Attending will leave and I will strain to see if I can here the chat the attending has with Dr. J - And if l'm  I'm lucky. I’ll catch snippets of sentences about yours truly.

Finally Dr. J will come in, impeccably dressed with a crisp dress shirt and silk tie instead of a white lab coat - And will shake my hand and ask me how I’m doing. 

We will chit chat about small talk - Most likely about our summer and how I saw him present his poster presentation at ADA in Chicago and how my niece is on the mother on HIMYM. 

We will chat and then he will turn the subject to diabetes, specifically, my diabetes - And my labs. 

I will hold my breath and tell myself to breathe as I open my notebook and begin to take notes. 

He will fill a glass of water up and tell me to drink it and then carefully examine my thyroid - And will most likely ask me to do it again. He''ll listen to my heart and my lungs and then check my wrists and ankles, all the while continuing to chat. And eventually he'll wind up taking my blood pressure again  - most likely while I'm in the middle of telling him a story. 

Then we will discuss diabetes game plans and come up with one - And Dr. J will answer my questions - both the ones in my notebook and the ones that pop into my head - And I will calm down  - And we will take it from there. 

And finally he will write my new prescriptions, hand me a bag of insulin samples & tell me what month I need to schedule my next appointment for. 

And we will say our goodbyes, and I will schedule my next appointment and then head toward the elevators - And by the time I walk out of the building & fingers crossed, I will most likely be relaxed and relieved.... Until the 30 days before my next Endo appointment - when the stress and anxiety of the Diabetes What Ifs start to creep up all over again. 
But here's the thing: I'm tougher than those damn Diabetes What Ifs, and I won't skip my next Endo appointment - or the one after that, either.