If something unexpected happens to me in terms of my health, I can almost always safely blame diabetes for causing whatever it may be. But when I absolutely, definitely cannot blame my diabetes, I can’t help but feel angry at my body for rebelling at me in ways that it shouldn’t. Particularly when those ways end up with me making a trip to the emergency room.
Let me set the scene: It was a Tuesday evening, around 7:45 P.M. My partner and I were watching an episode of Stranger Things (we’re not caught up yet so please, don’t spoil it for me). Suddenly, I felt an itch on my upper left arm. Like anyone would, I scratched it. But then it got more intense. Like, really, seriously itchy. I rolled up my sleeve so I would be able to scratch with greater ease, and was surprised to feel some bumps emerging on the itchy patch of skin.
I peeled off my sweater and stepped into better lighting in the bathroom so I could examine the area better. There was a large patch of red, inflamed skin on my arm that was covered with bumps that looked like hives. I was dumbfounded. Unsure of what triggered the hives, but alarmed by how swollen and irritated my arm looked, I shot a couple text messages to my EMT father and nurse best friend, who both advised me to get my arm looked at stat.
And that’s how I found myself in a crowded emergency room, tearful and furious at my body, on a random weeknight. Part of me was relieved that my diabetes didn’t seem to have anything to do with this (but see my recent post on Metformin and you’ll understand that I have some theories about that being the cause). But the other part of me was so pissed off that my body just couldn’t be normal for once. I felt that my body was lashing out at me like an unruly child, declaring its anger towards me in the form of an incredibly itchy, ugly rash. I couldn’t help but stew over the whole situation the entire time I waited to see a doctor.
Long story short, a dose of Benadryl cleared up the hives within an hour. The doctor was unable to determine a cause, since I couldn’t think of anything new introduced to my diet or any new scents/lotions/detergents used in my household. And insect bites got ruled out because the doctor was certain that a bite would be more localized and not spread in a giant patch on my arm. I’m still perplexed at how it happened, but I guess I just have to make peace with the fact that it did and be grateful for 1) making a total recovery from it and 2) not experiencing any issues with my blood sugars as a result of it.
When diabetes isn’t responsible for an ER trip, it means that it’s okay to still be upset about it, but also glad for not having to explain the intricacies of diabetes to every doctor and nurse that walks into the room…because I can’t think of a single PWD that would ever feel happy about taking on that happy task.