Non-Description

This lovely, descriptive post describes the past 72 hours of my life. Everything is crashing and burning. I don't want this to be the most depressing blog on the web, I'm not trying to make it such but its not been real great.
Friday afternoon- Neuro Opth calls. "You have a concernable MRI- there's something that needs to be further checked out. Can you make it back up here, next Wed?"
Sure, why not. Got nothing better to do with my life, then to run back and forth from Baltimore.
Saturday- the Advent of the Great Migraine. Blood sugars immeadiently go on the rollar coaster ride from H-, 450, 50, 390, 60, 110, 500. Appetite dissapeirs. (maybe this isn't such a bad thing) Unfortuantly, it isn't looking too great for Monday's endo appointment. I don't care.

Late Monday afternoon- Endo appointment.First, I drop off my PDA, 2 meters to get downloaded. "Hon, you want another meter?" Sure, why not. The 70 trials on the PDA don't all show up, so research coordinator makes me do another one. I don't actually test my blood sugar, 2 hours previous it was 139 and I'm in a lovely, funky mood anyway. I fudge it.So the research coordinator gives me the eyebrow "YOU DIDN'T TEST?!" Oh well. See ya in March, a1c time...
Now its off to Endocrine clinic. Register. Sit in clinic 10 minutes with lots of old people. Get called back by nurse. Weight- Excellent, I've lost 6 lbs. (woo hoo! Haven't been this low in awhile). Blood Pressure- 120/65. (YES!) Pulse- off the charts. (It always is) Tramp down hall. Nearly get run over by my old nemesis (D study Endo) and resident-in-tow, who breezes out ," Hello Heidi! How are you?" as my jaw flaps open at the amazement that she recognizes me on sight 3.5 years later. "Fine, Dr. ------how-" I don't get anything else out, as the nurse is rolling full steam ahead toward the exam room. Deposit me in room.
Like a good diabetic, I take my shoes and socks off. 15 minutes later, I put my socks back on. Feet are getting cold.
10 minutes later, endo comes in. We discuss some stuff, what, I really don't remember. Tells me I'm doing a good job. (uh huh)
Cholesterol time, microalbumin check time.
All of that done, rolling down the road- when I discover I forgot A. test strip rx and B. a note for work. Dadgum. Will have to call for them.
Meanwhile, my blood sugar had headed to the moon again. Maybe I should just go ahead and go into DKA now, if I'm up in Baltimore getting poked to death it will be much simpler if I'm already in the hospital.


Book Review of the Month:

Shaking the Nickel Bush- Ralph Moody.
This is a classic- the year is 1919, and insulin is 2 years away from being discovered. 19 year old Ralph, gets diabetes, ends up in the hospital, and is told by the old family doc to go out West and enjoy himself before he dies. (pretty much) First, he gets put on this weird diet of gluten bread, fish, milk, cabbage, and one or two assundry other things. Designed to reduce the amount of sugar in his urine... and make him gain some weight, at the same time. Well, from a diabetes standpoint, Ralph is an unbelievable great patient, visits a doc every week to get his urine checked, and only "cheats" on his diet once. (biscuits proved too great of a temptation, he figured he'd rather take his chances dying from diabetes, then dying from hunger..)
It takes the entire book for him to gain any weight, how he managed to gain any weight at all beats me. Meanwhile, he's busy making money hand over fist, not dying. This kid never had type 1- thats for sure. After 5 years on this diet, he figured the docs were wrong, he didn't have diabetes, so he went off the diet, married, had kids, worked, wrote tons of books(later in life) and lived to the ripe old age of 80+.

The Great Brain-
In one of the books- the Great Brain's adopted brother gets this rocker horse as a present. He really loves the thing. One day, it dissapeirs off the front porch. The Great Brain discovers who stole it, and when confronted, the couple confesses. They stole it for their 6 year old kid, who is dying from juvenile diabetes. The year is 1899, and insulin isn't around yet. Type 1 diabetes is a death sentence.They stole it, because they couldn't afford to buy their kid one. So, the GB's dad asks the adopted brother if he knows whats going on, and this super mature, 5 year old kid says yes- then walks up to the other kid and tells him to take good care of the horse.
2 months later, the kid dies. It was so sad.