This was originally posted to my old blog on August 26, 2014
I think I found a new primary doctor that I will enjoy working with. My old primary just up and left without letting her patients know. I made an appointment with her replacement and went in to see her today. Once I checked in I was informed that this new doctor was not coming in today and I would be seeing someone else. This office is not earning my respect at this moment, but all I need is a referral to an endocrinologist, so I don’t care who I see today.
I finally get called back to see this new, replacement of the replacement doctor. You know those times when everything is annoying you and then suddenly it all falls into place and all is right and well with your life? This was that moment for me. First, I found that I’ve lost seven pounds (yay!), then my blood-sugar was checked and it was 62…I didn’t even feel slightly low, made a note to keep an eye on that. Then the doctor came in and we talked, and I like him, he’s good, he listens, he made a point to tell me he is available at any time I might need him, and he’s not bad to look at, either (wink). At this moment I am glad for the hiccups and that it resulted in meeting this doctor (I shall make him my new primary). I got my referral to an endocrinologist, and the doctor examined the lesion on my leg that has not healed even after two months. He prescribed more antibiotics and told me to follow up with him in two weeks.
“You are type I and have heart problems, we need to keep a close eye on things like this on your leg that aren’t healing quickly enough.” He tells me, and I like that he obviously takes everything into consideration.
I leave the office after making a follow-up appointment and while walking through the parking lot I text my ride.
I try calling my ride.
I text my husband and let him know I will be walking home. And so the walk begins.
The walk home is 2.5 miles. I am aware that my BG was 62 not even 30 minutes earlier so I get in my purse and get out my glucose tabs and pop one in my mouth, and then another.
The walk is slow but steady, I have very poor circulation in my legs which results in a lot of pain when walking, especially when continually walking. The pain doesn’t start until I get almost a mile into my walk, but I have to get home so I make use of my great tolerance of pain and just keep walking.
Along the way I encounter a couple of loose dogs that decide to let me know who’s territory I am invading. They run right up to me barking and yipping. I just keep walking and return their greeting.
“Hey, hey, hey! Grrr.”
At about a mile and a half I start to feel a bit low. I am actually glad to feel this because until very recently I have been unable to recognize when I am low. I can feel the slightly shaky feeling that is normal when your BG drops. I consider ingesting another glucose tab but decide to wait to see if I can make it home to check my BG. Just because you feel low doesn’t mean you are low. If the symptoms progress a bit more, then I’ll eat a tab. Good plan…
A couple more blocks of walking and I begin to feel those symptoms progressing. I feel a numb like tingling slowly making it’s way down my back and to my legs and my lips as well. I feel slightly weak and tired. OK, I pop two more tabs. Still walking.
Things are OK for a couple more blocks. I pass by a house who’s owner is in their garage with the door up, blasting Sweet Child O’ Mine. I hum along for the entire half a block that I can hear it.
I’m tired, my legs are hurting more and more, it’s hot, my BG is low, my fat thighs are chafing…I just keep walking.
I come up to NorthHill road and my heart skips a beat; not in a bad, you have heart disease and are doing a ton more exercise than you are used to, kind of way, but in a “yay, just a few more blocks and I’m home!” kind of way.
As I turn on to NorthHill, my BG takes a turn for the worse. I slow down my pace, not willingly, but because I suddenly am so very tired, sleepy, and feel so weak.
“Just keep walking, just keep moving.” I tell myself.
I think about the two glucose tabs I still have in my purse but for some reason I don’t take the action to eat them.
“Just keep going.”
Just a few more blocks…wait, where am I?…What was I supposed to do?…What am I doing?…Go home, so tired. Something is wrong…need…what did I do?…I did something bad…I’m wrong…stop crying, don’t cry in public…Where am I going?…what’s going on? …I need help, where’s mom?…where’s Lee?… Stop crying!…I’ve got to be somewhere….I don’t…Police car, ask for help…no police man, just car, no police…never around when you need them…What street is this?..can’t read the sign, too blurry. Stop crying! No crying in public!…need help, call Lee…NO! Don’t call LEe, he’ll be mad…Just keep walking, need to go home…so weak.
Suddenly, the glucose tabs decide to take effect and I feel much clearer. I turn the corner onto my street and in moments I am home. After a bowl of Cheerios with a bit of sugar added, I am good again.