Ever notice how a brush with mortality brings everything to the surface? Some of you are new readers, so I’ll give you some context quickly. A couple of years ago, while on a flight to DC, a colleague told me about a heart event she’d had. It just so happened that I’d been having some chest pains. Fast forward through ignoring it and hoping it would go away, I went to the med clinic at my work, whose staff quickly hooked me up to an EKG, called EMS, and checked me into a Hospital cardiac unit. There happened to have been a friend of mine who was a Dr. on staff there and he came down and recommended his personal cardiologist. The results were: 1. I had high blood pressure; 2. I was overweight; 3. I had higher cholesterol than I should; and the pain I was feeling was the trauma of letting Connor (my one year old at the time) jump on my chest….ooops.
The good news was we had identified some things to work on. So I got on a mild version of south beach diet and I started hitting the gym again. I lost some weight and was feeling better. My cardiologist said I still needed a little more work. Then Josie came. I quit working out and I ate like a Sumo wrestler who was being bullied for being skinny. Okay, so not that bad, but I didn’t really keep up. The cardiologist said, hey bro, get your shit together or I’m going to have to increase your meds and you are on track for a lifetime of pill popping instead of a self-fix.
Okay, I got the message. I went on a different diet, and really started working out more. My blood panel came back and he called me in. He said, the weight loss was looking good, my blood pressure was perfect, cholesterol was way down, and I didn’t need to see him for six months…. Oh, and by the way… “You have diabetes. So you should go see this endocrinology group.”
Uh, WHAT??!!! Run that middle part by me again? Are you Effing Kidding me?!! “Yep, see this number here, that’s your Hemoglobin A1C score. It’s a 3 month rolling average of blood sugar and is the true indicator of diabetes. You are an 8.2, over seven is the threshold.”
Enter five stages of grief. First, there is NO Effing way I have this. I go to the internet which is exactly the wrong thing. I read everything I can find (which is a lot). I look at symptoms, habits, causes, etc. Crap. Now I get mad. I mean fuming mad. Nita wants to talk about it, I don’t. I know I’m going to jump down her throat for any reason, no reason, every reason because I recognize I’m incapable of reason at this time. She still wants to talk. We get in a fight, big shock. Like I need this now. Okay, now I start thinking that I will never see the man Connor will become or walk Josie down the aisle. So after my little pity party, I start thinking about what needs to be done. So in addition to controlling my diet and increasing my exercise, I need to step up the discipline. I need to make sure they have a great foundation for adulthood and I don’t know how much time I have (Connor is 3 and Josie is 1). This is day three, and my appointment with the Endocrinology team is still nine days away. This is BullSHIT. I call one of my doctor buddies and he helps me get to acceptance. You know, the problem isn’t going to change, it’s the solution on which you need to focus. Obsessing on how and why does not solve the problem.
Okay, the day of the appointment. I’m in a good place. Nita and I are actually closer today. We’ve been kinder to each other and I’m enjoying little details of my kids that I might have otherwise overlooked. I have an hour consultation to go over how to test my blood, use the little finger prick machine, and schedule an appointment with the dietician. By the way, I’d already book marked about 10 recipe sites for type-2 diabetes. So nearing the end of the consultation, the PA looks at my chart and says…”What is your birthday again?” I tell her. “This isn’t your blood panel.” WHAT??!!! Yes, if you are keeping score at home, I have spent the last two weeks in torment, and an hour practicing sticking my finger and testing blood because of someone else's lab work. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe no one caught this at either office. But this isn’t your lab. Can you do another panel on Monday?" Uh, no let's just go ahead and assume that I have it since I've already bought this fancy new blood sugar tester. Of COURSE I can test on monday. I do.
I don’t have diabetes, my cholesterol is in check, my proteins are fine, I’m going to make it. WOW. What a scare, and what a gift. A couple of people asked me if I was going to sue or what action I was going to take.
My response is, “it isn’t like they said I won the lottery and then checked and said, ‘Oh sorry, this is for someone else.’ They actually gave me back something I thought I lost.” So sure it was a little (lot) traumatic. But it got my attention. And I am enjoying my kids more (didn't think that was possible) and my wife more, and my friends more. I also found out that a LOT of my friends, family, and acquaintances live with type-2 diabetes. This is another in a very long line of blessings.
The response from those closest was pretty touching. I even had a buddy who’d stop over for a cocktail occasionally (once a week) not come because he didn’t want to be a bad influence. So is anyone looking for a diabetes cookbook and some sugar free candy?
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