To begin, let me just say that needles and injections suck.
Further, last night sucked monkey balls.
And Diabetes sucks even worse.
Diabetes runs in my family on both sides, so it wasn’t a huge surprise a year ago today when I finally got a diagnosis that explained why I was suffering from severe fatigue, thirst, and infections that would not clear up. I had been suspecting anemia (which also is pretty common in my family) or diabetes, just from the specific battery of tests they ran me through.
I wasn’t expecting it to be Type II Diabetes, which is the kind most often to effect the Elderly and Obese. My risk factors were far more in favor of Type I. Of course, they can’t treat me like someone who got the ugly end of the genetic lottery.
Nope, instead I keep finding myself being treated like some lazy bitch who does nothing but sit around and eat bon-bons and fast food all day. The first doctors decided to consign me to deteriorating health, even saying that they’d need to get me on medication to quote unquote “prolong [my] liver function.” They offered no suggestions on lowering my bloodsugar or lessons on even how to test my blood.
So, eventually getting tired of their crap, I dubiously switch to another doctor at an office I had been warned provided low quality care.
Heh, Dr. Reaume is the best damn doctor I’ve ever had, save for the pediatrician I had when I was a kid. He worked with me to find affordable means to get the care and education I needed, even switching me to insulin, which is finally proving to be an effective treatment. Yes, he’s been great for me – Or I should say, Dr. Reaume was great for me.
About a week ago, I received a lovely letter from the State of Michigan that basically stated that to continue receiving Medicaid benefits for medical services, I have to find another doctor. So, the hunt is on, but does the State offer any kind of help. Fat chance.
So now, I’m hanging.
What’s more, is that I really can’t get a job either. One of my meds is $279 per bottle of 150 pills. Medicaid covers it, but only if I’m unemployed. I get a job, I loose Medicaid and find myself faced without a way to afford my medication. The only alternative is finding myself an advocate somehow and seeing if I can get on the drug manufacturers’ assistance programs. (Which I was originally on, until the first doctors’ office insisted I drop it in lieu of Medicaid! )
Well, yesterday (day before yesterday by the time I hit “Enter”) Murphy’s Law struck and I had another fun little episode in this learning curve.
I ate dinner at 5:30pm, with more of the glucose raising things than I normally should have like Scalloped Potatoes, bread and butter, etc. But… I’d been a bit low all day, so I figured a bit of indulgence wouldn’t hurt me any.
At 7:30, I came back from a walk with my dog, and ended up with a slight tremble that indicated I again was low. Being of sound mind and body, I grab a few pieces of Halloween Candy and then spot a nice, big, juicy apple. Normally, that’d be way too much for a snack.
At 9:30pm I tested my bloodsugar, which was at 63 mg/dL. A bit low for me, but no biggie. I had some of my diabetic-friendly yogurt.
I tested again at 11pm before I went to bed, which said I was at 180 mg/dL. A bit higher than it should be, but it isn’t the highest I’ve been.
At 2am I’m still awake, anxiously brooding over really stupid things. I was feeling strung out, bitchy, and not the slightest bit tired. I don’t know at what point it struck me to test again, but I eventually hauled myself out of bed and went to get my test kit.
I knew the moment I touched it I was “crashing” – my vision suddenly blurred, I broke out in a sweat, and I began trembling so violently I could barely handle my lancet device. This test came back at below 50 mg/dL.
Thank goodness for that Halloween candy is all I can say. After eating some candy, I woke mom up and told her. A phone call to the closest ER revealed that bloodsugar under 50 is where they consider it an emergency.
Since Mom was making a 2:30am breakfast for me (not to mention I’ve gotten to loathe ERs with a passion) I told them I’d see how I felt after that and then come in if it still wouldn’t stay up. So after some breakfast, Adult Swim, and another test at 4am later puts me clear up in the 200s. Back to bed… only until 8am.
Mom demanded I call Dr. Reaume’s office and ask to talk to someone about this. I’ve come to the conclusion… there is no Dr.’s office on earth that can hit 100%. Nope, there’s always gotta be something they suck at. Dr. Reaume’s office is returning phonecalls. Two phonecalls wanting advice over an event that could have landed me in the ER and they never called me back. :-/
*sigh* So, the hunt is on to find someone before I have another of these bizarre crashes as well as see if – somehow – I can locate myself an advocate.
Tell me when the fun starts.