Deja Vu

Three months since my diagnosis with Type 2, and there I was, in the doctor's office, getting my blood drawn. A new nurse this time (let's call her Chatty Cathy) making all the pleasant small talk one might expect. "Here for bloodwork?" she asked. I might have said, "I'm not here for my health!" -- but of course, I was.

The concept of drawing blood doesn't thrill me. I do not really trust the medical profession. Maybe it's all the pharmaceutical ads with "actor portrayals" instead of real physicians. (Although this seems to be the case less and less, with 'real doctors' showing up on infomercials to sell everything from weight loss pills to miracle skin cream.)

I always feel like they're on a fishing expedition. It also seems to me like every so often, the 'standards of normal' get revised downward, narrowing the range, so increasing numbers of people can be diagnosed with high levels of one thing or another, requiring medication to bring it down. (Years ago, I had one doctor rubbing his hands with anticipation as his assistant stuck a needle in my arm. It was almost as if he was excited about what they might find.)

This was the same doctor who put my wife on more than one medication for high cholesterol. One gave her a run down feeling all the time, zapping her energy and motivation. Another caused a panic attack, making her feel like she could not breathe for almost an hour. They ended up taking that one off the market. (We later switched to another physician who did similar tests, took her off all medication, and she's been fine ever since.)

And Chatty Cathy? She stuck me twice. The first arm did not surrender enough blood.

So my doctor came in to repeat the same speech about Diabetes. Even though I was feeling encouraged by a weight gain of five pounds (after losing twenty without explanation prior to diagnosis), he told me that we want it to 'level off' now, so that everything will stabilize. He said they would be checking my blood sugar and cholesterol. He also said they'd be checking kidney and liver function. If everything looks good, they might even extend my next visit to six months instead of three. He gave a refill on my medication. (A ninety day supply this time -- that's one big bottle of pills.)

For someone who's always been so healthy, this whole Diabetes thing feels like a mistake. Like it wasn't supposed to happen. I still keep thinking it might somehow go away. I've totally adjusted my routine, changed my eating habits, and I feel fine. (My blood pressure that day was 106/72. How great is that?)

We may get results sometime today by phone. I'm really hoping everything will be okay. I'd like to stop thinking about this for a while. Take my daily medicine and forget about it. (I keep thinking there must be a way to get around this. To improve my levels to the point where I can get off medication and live like a normal person. In spite of all my self-talk, and efforts on acceptance, it's a thought that won't go away.)

Of course, it's not the worse thing that could happen. It just makes me different than before. I don't see why this change should occur just because I turned fifty. One day I'm fine, the next day I'm not. (Not completely true, of course, since it took several months for me to realize that something was wrong, and my doctor told me that I've probably had the condition longer than that.)

A doctor's office is just not my favorite place to be. I'm still bound and determined to spend as little time there as possible. After witnessing what happened to several people, enduring extended treatment for cancer, with months and months of misery, only to die anyway, my wife and I have made a vow not to do the same. (I still believe that medical care should be a personal decision, and each person should have a choice about how much care they wish to receive.)

Does it not feel like a major shift has taken place? I understand that the costs for healthcare providers keep going up, making it harder and harder for them to survive on their own. That's why so many join medical groups. That's why they go to work for corporations. I do appreciate the fact that my physician continues his own private practice.

So, here I am patiently waiting, hoping for good results.

It's like deja vu.