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One thing about diabetes that can be particularly frustrating is not knowing how our body will react to stress. I've had just as many highs from stress as I have had unexpected lows.

Strangely, I think I more often go lowish from certain kinds of stress. Namely medical stress. Just over a year ago, for example, I had to have an MRI on my hip with contrasting dye and it was really an experience I was not prepared for. Sitting in the waiting area before the procedure I was high. During the part where the doctor injected the dye into my hip, I felt myself going low and thought I was going to pass out.

And then there was the minor hand surgery I had two and a half years ago where my sugar stayed low all morning until my mid-day surgery.

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It's a shame in a way that such little things can be so influential.

By now you've read about my struggle to find an endocrinologist since moving to Phoenix. The first doctor I saw? What a joke. And then to Mayo where I loved the staff, but couldn't afford the out of network bills. While I've been mostly satisfied with Dr. R's office I have felt for a while that I settled on this office. And I don't really want the bad karma, but I seriously think I did settle.

And I think that point was driven home last week when a friend of mine saw a different doctor at Dr. R's practice. Her first experience there was much like my first endo experience here. She was completely unsatisfied and has vowed to never go back.

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So, as predicted, my blood sugar was lowish most of Friday morning. In fact, I believe my fasting was under 90, so I had to eat a granola bar before going for my walk. I stayed under 100 until lunch time.

It was totally crazy. Thank you stress and nerves!

I knew I'd need some complex carbs to get me through the afternoon without going low. So I went for my favorite soft pretzel spot for lunch. So, so yummy. And so, so rough on my blood sugar. I can usually count on hanging out in the 200s for about five or six hours no matter what I do when I have one of those pretzels.

Just before leaving for the doctor's office, I checked my sugar and was around 240. I really hadn't wanted to be that high, but was slightly comforted knowing that I wouldn't go low during the procedure.

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What are you thinking about right now? Is it the color purple? Because that's what you should be thinking about right now. Purple. Now it's everywhere, right? All of a sudden it seems to be everywhere you look. See, right there? No, on your left. It's purple.

Everywhere.

That's what I've been dealing with for the last roughly five months -- finally being able to put my finger on something and then it's freaking everywhere. Earlier this year I had a "routine" ultrasound on my thyroid. I've been taking medication for more than 10 years because of my thyroid and my new endo is the first doctor to ever suggest I have an ultrasound.

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I like to be prepared for things. Especially when it comes to medical procedures. And especially especially when those medical procedures involve getting a needle stuck in my neck.

A couple weeks ago when I saw Dr. R she recommended that I have a repeat biopsy on my thyroid nodule. The one that's so freaking gigantic. Although she said I'm not symptomatic and that I've likely had it for years, the American Thyroid Association (I think that's the one) recommends nodules over a certain size (which mine is) be biopsied until a diagnosis can be made. And since the last biopsy I had came back non-diagnostic (which means they didn't get enough cells in the biopsy to determine anything) she thought we should do another.

"How did you do with it last time?" she asked me.

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Last week I called my OB's office.

"Hi. I'm a patient of Dr. I. I'll be 35 next week, haven't had a period in 57 days and I'm not pregnant," I told the triage nurse. "And the last few cycles have gotten progressively farther apart."

"Well," she said, "women can have signs of perimenupause as many as 10 years before they actually go into perimenopause or menopause."

Fantastic, I thought. Just what I needed to hear: You are officially getting old.

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Yesterday I was a tad run down and equally cranky. This morning, while I did get up and walk, I felt heavy and tired and run down. Wasn't sure I was going to make it until 2 p.m. for the repeat needle biopsy on my thyroid nodule.

9:30 a.m. I was getting settled at my desk and had already started counting the hours. My legs were restless and I think I looked at the clock about every 30 seconds.

Acutely aware of my nerves, I tried to take lots of deep breaths, tried to focus, tried to pray, tried to calm down. And then I think I gave in: there just was not going to be a calm Michelle until after the biopsy.

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I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’ve once again been missing in action lately. Life, as it sometimes does, has been happening to me and my family quite a bit the last month, and shows no signs of stopping anytime soon.

My mother-in-law was rushed to the hospital on November 4th, after experiencing what can only be described as excruciating pain in the left side of her abdomen. Initial diagnostic imaging revealed several masses of varying size all around her abdomen and into her chest.

Initially, they thought she might have had some form of lymphoma, but without a biopsy and further examination, they couldn’t tell us for sure. So, a week later, my mother-in-law was still in the hospital and underwent surgery to remove a large mass from around her heart. The surgeon also did a biopsy of a nodule on her lung while he was at it.

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