sanitary – Hugging the Cactus

Welp, I had my appointment with my endocrinologist on Monday.

In sum, it was mostly an uneventful affair, considering the times.

Immediately upon arriving, I was asked to put on a clinic-provided mask and to sanitize my hands. I checked in with the receptionist and sat in a chair in the mostly-abandoned waiting area, taking in the fact that seating was reduced in order to maintain social distance.

A nurse came out to bring me into my exam room and she took my blood pressure (good) and my weight (let’s not talk about it) before leaving to get my doctor. I was slightly surprised that she didn’t check my temperature with a contact-less thermometer, but I decided not to second-guess it.

My endocrinologist entered soon after…and she spent all of 15 minutes with me. She said that she reviewed the information I sent her from my Dexcom, as well as data from my pump, and said she couldn’t really detect any patterns besides some lingering lows in the late mornings/early afternoons. Again, I found myself a bit bemused by this observation, because I hadn’t picked up on it. She decided to adjust my basal for the 11 A.M. to 1 P.M. window (I went from 0.9 to 0.8 units for those two hours) and then asked me if I had any questions.

She didn’t check my feet, listen to my heart, examine my thyroid, or review my labs with me…all things that I’ve come to expect from previous endocrinologists.

My mild shocks of surprise from earlier in the appointment turned into something else: As the kids say, I was SHOOK…meaning that it was absolutely wild to me that she was already done with me.

A Dis-Appointment_ My Experience at the Endocrinologist — Am I smiling or frowning underneath this mask? Given how my endocrinologist appointment went, I bet you can guess…

I expressed my dismay with my A1c – it had gone up a little bit – and she told me that I was “still under good control”.

I said that I was befuddled by my weight gain – I’ve been working out like a fiend the last couple of months – and she suggested that perhaps it’s muscle.

I asked if she could recommend any blood sugar meters to me – I’ve had the same one for practically a decade and I worry about its accuracy – and she said that I should try a new meter from the same manufacturer that’s supposed to hit the market “soon”.

For every question or concern I brought up in that short span of time, she had an immediate, unsatisfactory answer that made me feel like my concerns were being brushed away.

But the real kicker? I’m not seeing her again for another seven months.

SEVEN MONTHS?!

That’s right, folks. I went from having quarterly endocrinologist appointments for my first 22 years of life with diabetes to once every six months, and now in SEVEN months.

This means that I will have seen my endocrinologist once for the entire year of 2020.

That’s bananas to me, and a sign that my instincts from our first meeting were correct: This may not be the right doctor for me. I have no doubt of her intelligence or capability, but sometimes you just know when a given doctor-patient relationship isn’t the healthiest one for you.

The whole appointment – the brevity, the indifference, and the outcome – was almost enough to make me forget about my anxieties surrounding medical facilities during this pandemic…

…almost.

Luckily, that’s what face masks, Clorox wipes, several squirts of hand sanitizer, and a thorough hand-washing or five are for.

We all know that 2020 hasn’t exactly gone to plan so far, largely thanks to COVID-19.

In a word, the last 8-10 weeks or so have been…weird. Collectively, the world experienced a lot of things: shock, rapid-fire adjustments, loss, and more than anything else, change.

It goes without saying that I’ve been very fortunate given the circumstances. I’ve had my job throughout this whole ordeal, and I’ve had experience working from home before which arguably made my transition to full-time remote work a little easier. While each week has come with its own unique set of challenges and emotions, there’s no denying that I’ve had it pretty good, overall, these last couple of months.

But now, along with everyone else, I’m about to enter a “new normal” (gosh I hate that term) as states begin to re-open. And with this “new normal” comes the possibility of returning to a physical office building each workweek.

I’ll admit that the sheer thought of it simultaneously excites and terrifies me.

My Thoughts on Returning to Work (and this _New Normal_) — My thoughts on re-entering the workplace are…complicated.

On the one hand, I’m yearning to go back to work in an office space. I miss my little cubicle, office camaraderie, and meetings that are held in-person, in conference rooms, as opposed to virtually.

On the other hand, I’ve never felt more anxious about returning to a space that is shared by people other than my family members.

There are a LOT of people that enter and exit my company’s building throughout the typical workday. There are at least a dozen other companies besides mine that occupy the other floors in the building. Tons of deliveries are made to these office suites each day. While there are custodial staff who do their best to keep the building clean, it can be…a challenge, as anyone who has seen our bathrooms can attest to.

Basically, I suppose that I’m feeling incredibly nervous about the exposure to germs that is bound to happen upon my return to the office.

Even if I didn’t have diabetes and wasn’t considered at a higher risk for COVID, I’m sure I’d still feel worried because it’s not just about me: It’s also about the people I live with. I’d never want to bring anything harmful into my family’s home, period, bottom line, end of story. And while the odds are pretty damn high that PPE (personal protective equipment) will become standard when re-entering the workplace, it does little to placate me because I’ve seen firsthand how sloppy people can be when it comes to wearing it or disposing of it properly.

And so, with much still unknown about COVID, it just seems like a giant gamble to resume working in an office environment when I can’t be sure that I won’t be exposed to anything.

As it stands right now, I don’t have a concrete “return to work” date. And I don’t know what exactly it will take in order for me to feel totally comfortable about returning to the office. But I do know that I’m cautiously optimistic for a smooth transition to a “new normal” that is safe for all.