Why Meeting a New Endocrinologist is Scarier Than Going on a First Date

I have an appointment with my endocrinologist today. Or should I say, the person who I hope is my new endocrinologist. I really want this patient-doctor relationship to work out!

It’s my first new endocrinologist in about ten years and I am effing nervous. It’s comparable to going out on a first date with someone, only I’m not hoping to be wooed with flowers or treated to a fancy meal.

I’m hoping that this person is someone I can trust with my health…which I value a lot more than any of the associated costs of a first date.

Why Meeting a New Endocrinologist is Scarier Than Going on a First Date
There are higher stakes with a new endocrinologist than with a new dating-app match.

Why is this new doctor terrifying to me? For starters, I have so many questions. What if she doesn’t like me? What if I don’t like her? What if she judges me? What if she’s too lenient? What if…? The list goes on and on.

Plus, I’m seeing her after smack dab in the middle of holiday celebrations, also known as the most turbulent time of the year for me and my blood sugars. I’ve had so many highs in the last month that I’ve tried to stay on top of, but she’s bound to notice them and ask me if this is a regular thing for me. It’s also pretty likely that my weight has gone up as a result of the many indulgences I’ve enjoyed in the last few weeks, and I’m worried about whether comments will be made on that.

Not to mention that I haven’t seen an endocrinologist since…late August, I think? And that appointment was with my “old” doctor, who left to practice somewhere far, far away. It was a bittersweet parting, and it wasn’t on amicable terms because neither of us was ready for it to be over. So I’m heading into a new potential endocrinologist relationship with that in my mind, and my new doctor has a lot to live up to when compared with my old doctor.

I just want everything to go well. I know that if it’s not a perfect fit, it’ll be pretty evident straightaway, and I can seek another new endocrinologist. But to continue with the dating metaphor, it’s not as easy as just swiping along and seeing what other nearby options I have. There are other concerns beyond location: I need to make sure my doctor can accept my insurance, on top of them being likable, knowledgable, and eager to help me manage my diabetes. It might be surprising to learn that this particular combination is a tall order, but again, when it comes to my health I refuse to just settle.

Fingers crossed, it’s a match from the start and all of my concerns will be rendered invalid late this afternoon at the conclusion of my appointment…

 

My Take on Diabetes and Support

It’s November 20th which means that it’s Day 20 of the Happy Diabetic Challenge! Today’s prompt is “biggest supporter”. Since it’s impossible for me to identify a single person as the biggest source of support with my diabetes, I decided to write about how my thoughts on diabetes and support have changed over the years.

Emotional support is a lovely thing. It feels good to have people in your life who you feel have your back. And it’s twice as nice to have when you’re dealing with a chronic illness like diabetes.

I talk extensively about diabetes and support in the most recent episode of the podcast, Ask Me About My Type 1. (Here’s the link in case you haven’t listened to it yet.) Rather than rehash everything I said in that episode, I’m going to use this post as an opportunity to reflect how my wants and needs in terms of support for my diabetes have changed over the years.

It’s interesting (at least, it is to me) to think about how and why my desire for support has changed as I’ve grown older. My childhood was very normal despite diabetes. It was always there and it was always a thing I had to deal with, but I definitely didn’t feel compelled to talk about it as much as I do now, let alone lean on others in difficult times. Why is that?

I think it has a lot to do with getting to know myself better as I’ve aged.

HUGGING THE CACTUS - A T1D BLOG
In this post, I get all self-reflective-y on diabetes and support.

After all, they say that with age comes wisdom. And though I don’t exactly consider myself a wise old sage or anything of the sort, I do think that I’ve acquired some enlightenment about myself and the way that I process things in my adulthood.

Specifically, I realized in the last few years that diabetes has instilled in me a strong desire to feel in control of every aspect of my life…not just diabetes. When something doesn’t go according to whatever carefully thought-out plan I’ve cooked up, I get upset. And I tend to either bottle up my dismay, which is never a good thing to do, or I totally take it out on the whichever poor soul happens to be within my vicinity, which isn’t fair. Neither of those reactions is a healthy method of dealing with things, but at least I’m aware of that and I’m actively trying to improve how I cope.

I think that this example shows how important diabetes support has become to me because I’m able to lean on others in those times that all of my diabetes plans don’t work out the way I envisioned them. I’ve figured out, over time, that it’s just about the only thing that really works for me. Talking to other people with diabetes (and without diabetes) about struggles that I’ve faced makes me feel less alone. It used to be scary for me to be so vulnerable with others, but I’ve found that it’s worth it because it helps me heal, move on, and forgive/accept myself for feeling whatever I’m feeling.

Support from others is truly powerful…but above that, learning to rely on others – learning how to best support myself, really – is more than that. It’s magical and absolutely enhances the quality of my life with diabetes.

My Diabetes Hero

It’s November 6th which means that it’s Day 6 of the Happy Diabetic Challenge! Today’s prompt asks us to name our diabetes hero/heroine. Well, I have more than one…

My diabetes hero is not just one person. It’s a small group of people that I call my family. (Awwwww, how sweet.)

F428B899-72D9-4EBD-95A6-9AF8EB03C464
Me with my heroic diabetes family.

My mom, dad, and brother are all-too familiar with diabetes. My mom is T1D, like me, and my dad and my brother were the lucky ducks who got to live under the same roof as us for many years. All three of them are diabetes heroes to me, but in some very different ways.

Let’s start with my brother. He is three years older than me and I’d say we were fairly close to one another in our shared childhood. Though he doesn’t share a diabetes diagnosis with me, he grew up with diabetes just as much as I did. And do you know what’s amazing about that? I’ve never once heard him complain about it. If he has ever felt any fear or worry for my mom and I, he definitely has done a good job of internalizing it. He treats us like we have normal, functioning pancreases, and I think the reason for that is he knows that we are more than capable of taking care of our diabetes ourselves. Although his thoughts and feelings about our diabetes have yet to be verbalized, I appreciate his unique brand of support for us and I continue to be wowed that he never seemed to be bothered by the extra attention I got as a child due to my diabetes. No unhealthy sibling rivalry there!

Next up is the other Type None in our family: my dad. I’ve written about my dad in a couple of previous blog posts. He is truly the Mr. Fix It in our family. If there is a problem, he wants to solve it – especially if it is something that is causing his loved ones emotional distress. He has had more than his fair share of situations in which my mom or I were seriously struggling with our diabetes. I can only imagine how he feels when all he can do is just stand by and let us work through our issues: It’s probably a combination of helpless, angry, and worried. He’s said numerous times over the years that he’d give my mom and I his healthy pancreas if he could, and I’ve never questioned the sincerity behind that sentiment. I know he means it, and to me, that’s the kind of heroism that nobody else in my life can even begin to compete with.

And then we’ve got my diabetes partner-in-crime, my mom. How on earth she managed to deal with her OWN diabetes, in addition to mine, all throughout my childhood is completely beyond me. Besides being there for me as a source of unwavering emotional support as someone who really “gets it”, my mom’s attended practically every single endocrinology appointment with me, encouraged me to start using an insulin pump, ordered alllllll of my supplies for many years (and kept track of the stacks of associated paperwork), and helped keep me as calm as humanly possible throughout my terrifying insurance transition that took place late this past spring. Let me just restate that she did all of this and still does all of this while still dealing with her own diabetes!!!!! It’s sort of mind-blowing to me that she can stay so much calmer about her diabetes than I ever could when it comes to either of ours, but she does it, and that makes her a heck of a diabetes hero to me.

What’s really neat about my diabetes heroes, as a collective unit, is that diabetes has never and will never define our family. It’s something that lingers there in the background, for sure, but it almost never steals our attention away from our time spent together. I can’t recall a single instance in the last 22 years that diabetes really, truly disrupted our family rhythm (maybe my parents would disagree with that and count in my diabetes diagnosis, but I barely remember that).

It just goes to show that even as something as life-altering and disruptive as diabetes only made my family stronger when it hit us with a double dose.

Overcoming Fears and Feeling All the Feels at FFL Falls Church 2019

I wasn’t sure what I was doing here.

“Here” meaning the CWD Friends for Life conference that took place in Falls Church, Virginia, this past weekend. CWD/FFL are acronyms synonymous with some of the largest, best-known conferences for people with diabetes and their families. I went to my first in Orlando back in 2013, and it resulted in me craving more chances to spend time with large groups of T1Ds.

However, timing and money prevented me from going to as many conferences as I’d like in the last few years. I did go to one back in 2017, but it wasn’t what I’d hoped it would be…so going into FFL Falls Church 2019, I was simultaneously excited and nervous.

My fears and anxieties hit their peak within minutes of me arriving to the hotel that was hosting the conference.

All around me, I was witnessing mini reunions taking place. It seemed like everyone in attendance knew each other, and the introvert within me was totally freaking out – how could I possibly join these preformed friendships?

I left that first night feeling a little deflated. I’d only managed to speak to a couple of people who weren’t exhibiting vendors, and I’d spent entirely too much time looking busy on my cell phone when in reality I was just hoping someone might come up and talk to me. It was a little pathetic, but I knew I’d go back the next day having learned from my mistakes.

Add a heading
Wearing the signature neon green bracelet (which denotes that I have T1D to other conference attendees – the other bracelet color is orange and that means you do not have T1D).

Day 2 rolled around and as I moved from session to session, I slowly started coming out my shell. I met and spoke with parents of T1D children of all ages. I heard a wide variety of diagnosis stories and experiences. I forced myself out of my comfort zone even more by attending a session that focused on diabetes and complications, which I normally can’t stand thinking about, but I actually found it to be one of the best sessions of the entire conference. It’s amazing how much people can open up to a room of what started out as strangers but quickly turned into friends and confidants.

By the third and final day of the conference, my diabetes soul was feeling rejuvenated. It’s pretty difficult to put into words, but being surrounded by so many people with T1D (and those who care for them) for a full weekend is unlike anything else. You’re around people who understand everything about diabetes. They know what a low blood sugar feels like. They know that 4 beeps emitting from an OmniPod is no big deal because it’s just a 4-hour expiration alert. They know how to carb count better than most doctors. They know what burnout is.

It’s just really magical.

In the end, I’m incredibly glad I went to the conference. I met people I might not have ever had the chance to meet. I learned quite a bit about some new diabetes technologies and medicines (more to come on those later). I had open and honest conversations about nearly every aspect of diabetes, which made me feel less alone. I left feeling happy, better informed, more connected, and most of all, proud of myself for overcoming my fears and attending the conference on my own.

FA89CB4A-E570-44BC-B534-93F18358009E
My happy face at the end of the conference.

 

Dealing with Diabetes When You’re the Maid of Honor

No, no, no. Not today diabetes. Dammit.

The morning of my cousin’s wedding, I woke up to a blood sugar of 237 after a night of fighting elevated levels. There was no rhyme or reason for the high blood sugar – I hadn’t eaten a single thing for 16 hours at that point, but I had changed my pod an hour or two before going to bed.

Why You Should Get a Flu Shot (If You Haven't Gotten One Already) (2)
When you’re the MOH and you also happen to have diabetes, you worry about a lot more than just your speech or your makeup.

WTF was wrong? Was the pod’s cannula bent? Was I high due to wedding day jitters? Would the highs persist all day?

These were the thoughts racing through my mind almost as soon as I woke up the morning of my cousin’s wedding.

I didn’t have time to worry about my MOH speech, or whether my hair would turn out the way I wanted to, or even to drink a celebratory mimosa while I got ready with the rest of the bridal party – I was too preoccupied by my elevated blood sugar.

All I could bother to think about was a potential solution before we all walked down the aisle.

Somewhere between applying my eyeshadow and having the 111th bobby pin secured in my hair (yes, it truly took 111 bobby pins to make my intricate braided up-do possible), I remembered “The Incident” from last year. I’d slept through a high blood sugar that, the following morning, refused to come down. As my frustration grew, so did the pain in my belly that lead me to the bathroom, where I came very close to passing out. One ambulance trip and ER visit later, I discovered that my pod’s cannula was bent, leaving me with no doubt that a pod malfunction was responsible for the whole ordeal.

With that memory vividly replaying in my mind, I made the executive decision to change my pod a couple hours before we were due at the wedding venue. And I can’t even begin to explain how happy I am that I listened to my intuition to do so. Upon removing it, I noticed blood at the site – not as bad of a sign as a bent cannula is, but a possible indicator of a problem. By the time we were in the venue’s bridal suite, my blood sugar was sitting pretty at 90 and I was finally able to focus on the beautiful, meaningful afternoon.

Sure, it was a stressful morning and far from an ideal situation, but I am extremely proud of myself for how I handled it. I didn’t panic the way I normally do. I didn’t shed any anxiety tears. I kept the issue pretty well-concealed from the bride, who shouldn’t have to worry about her MOH’s health on her special day. My calm approach paid off, and though it sucked to waste almost two days’ worth of insulin when I disposed the wonky pod, I knew I should pay closer attention to the fact that I did what needed to be done.

And even better was that my diabetes mostly cooperated with me the rest of the day. It didn’t stop me from delivering a fantastic speech with the matron of honor. It didn’t prevent me from enjoying some tasty wedding food, cake and all. It certainly didn’t keep me from tearing up the dance floor with my enthusiastic family. And it didn’t end my night early as I went out with my boyfriend, the newlyweds, and the matron of honor and her husband to a bar to shoot some pool and continue our celebrations.

Turns out that dealing with diabetes when you’re the maid of honor has a lot to do with keeping a cool head and living in the moment, two things that are so important to do in a variety of situations.

A Farewell to my Endocrinologist

Well…the day I’ve been subconsciously dreading has finally arrived.

It’s time for me to part ways with my endocrinologist…the diabetes doctor that I’ve seen for the last decade…more than one-third of my life.

She’s moving onto new things, and I’m sad to see her go. She’s helped me tremendously over the years.

She’s seen me at my “diabetes worst”, when I was a college student who cared more about having a normal college experience than managing my diabetes.

She was the one who finally convinced me to quit MDI in favor of an insulin pump.

She’s one of the few medical professionals I’ve ever interacted with who treated me like an equal – she never made me feel “less than” or inferior to her.

In other words, I was pretty dang lucky to be her patient.

1DEBAFF4-E2F8-460B-8FDF-7330F4EBA07D
The “thank you” card that I plan on giving my endocrinologist, pictured with two devices I started using thanks to her.

I’m trying to take this forced change in stride. Maybe it will be good to meet with another endocrinologist. Maybe it will help me continue to improve. But I am allowing myself to feel a little upset and sorry over the situation; after all, it’s never fun to part ways with someone, especially when you had no say in the matter.

Guess what else I’m allowing myself to feel?

Gratitude.

I feel thankful for my endocrinologist, so I plan on giving her a card with the following message during our appointment tomorrow…because it’s important to me for her to know all the positive change she’s brought to my life:

Dear [Name Redacted],

I wanted to thank you for all that you have done to help me (and my mom and aunt) in the last several years. You have always motivated me to take better care of myself after every appointment I’ve had with you. I appreciate you for being patient with me, listening to my concerns, and inspiring me to try new technologies and treatments to improve my quality of life with diabetes. I don’t like having a chronic illness, but having a doctor like you around to help me deal with it means the world to a patient like me.

Wishing you all the best in your future endeavors!

Sincerely,

Molly

I’m Jealous of Your Working Pancreas

Sometimes, I look at my friends and family members and think, I’m jealous of your working pancreas(es). 

It’s not their faults for having perfectly functioning organs – and believe me, I’m glad that they do work the way they should. I’d never wish diabetes on anyone, especially the ones that I care about and love.

But I can’t help but think to myself, it must be nice to not have to worry about any of the crap that I’m constantly thinking about. 

C6BFB925-7352-4793-B831-DAC492177AEB

How lovely it must be to order whatever the heck you want at any restaurant you walk into, without having to worry about how many carbs it contains or how much to bolus for it.

How freeing it must be to live spontaneously, to go out and about wherever you desire without having to lug around a bunch of supplies and snacks, because you never know what you might need to have on hand.

The last time I had these thoughts was when my best friend visited me a few weeks ago in Washington, D.C. We had an absolutely wonderful weekend together that was filled with excellent culinary experiences and lots of walking (we logged 30,000 steps in a single day). Even though we had a blast, I was having a difficult time with my diabetes all weekend long, probably due to all the unfamiliar foods we were eating and the amount of movement we incorporated into each day.

I remember being in the Museum of Natural History when I checked my blood sugar and it was sky high, no thanks to the falafel wrap and soft-serve ice cream I’d consumed for lunch. I felt so defeated – not only was my blood sugar high, but my feet were aching and I felt icky after walking around in 95-degree heat for most of the morning and afternoon. But as an eager-to-please host to my guest, I felt like I still had to paste a smile on my face and show her and her boyfriend a good time.

That’s when the thought came – I’m jealous of your working pancreas – and went….because I knew that I shouldn’t waste any more time or energy begrudging my bestie of her healthy, insulin-producing pancreas. I’m so grateful that hers works – along with many other beloved family and friends – and that she doesn’t have to worry about all the crap that I’m constantly thinking about.

Isn’t it funny – funny interesting, not funny ha-ha – how perspective can change from one moment to the next? How jealousy can turn into gratitude? It’s kind of awesome.