I went to the doctor last week. I’ve found unless you visit them periodically, they won’t give you prescriptions. I find this frustrating, yet amusing. Dr. M- “So why are you here today?” Me- “Because you won’t refill my Rx for my insulin. I want you to double check that my pancreas hasn’t regenerated itself.” Seriously, in six months do you think my islet cells have sprouted buds and I am getting bottled insulin only to screw the health care system?
I was in the local clinic today to see Dr. M and get my blood drawn from Katherine. (Insert angel singing here.) Phlebotomists scare me. They lean over my large veins and oooh and awww. I tell them my veins roll, but they ignore me. And proceed to jab and twist, until I nearly pass out. Katherine, on the other hand, has never missed a vein on the first try. I love Katherine.
Dr. M is a compassionate lady, not an endo, but only 30 miles away. I went in for some annual bloodwork. My hemoglobin A1C was 7.2, okay, but not as good as I would like. I also wanted my thyroid tested. I have been exhausted, and the family tree is full of wimpy thyroids.
Dr. M compassionately listens to my symptoms. “You have aching in your shoulders.” “Yes, it’s frozen shoulders. They did surgery (more like arm twisting torture) last fall.” “And you’re tired…” “Not all the time, some times are worse than others.” And the listening stops here.
We talk about fibromyalgia and depression for the rest of my visit. I know I’m not depressed and my friend Agnes has “fiber” myalgia. Bloodsugars could be tighter (duh), cholesterol could be lower (great), and start exercising more or eating less (calories in versus calories out, already knew that).
I left depressed.
Hey- Dr. M was right!