In this post I will rant and rave in a way I don’t think I ever have about something that when I look back at this post in about 20 minutes may see incredibly trivial. Or not.
 

Seriously, what is the logic behind checking my blood sugar at the endocrinologists office? Not *me* checking my sugar, but the nurse checking it during the course of blood pressure, weight, pulse, etc.
 

I mean really, for them it’s a totally random time to check someone’s sugar. They never ask when I ate last or when I last bolused. What is the reason for this?
  (READ MORE)

When I look back at the first pediatrician we had for No. 1 there's really one thing that stands out: Had she been a parent when she was treating us I think the care would have been different. Not better, mind you, just different.

Of course, I didn't realize this until after we had more kids and moved and had to find another pediatrician. Someone who had her own kids. The connection between me and her was different, as was the one between the kids and her. Yes, in a way, that connection was better, not just different.

Now, don't get your panties in a bunch because I'm not saying being a parent is a prerequisite for being a good pediatrician. What I'm saying is that I'm wondering if having an endo who has diabetes -- particularly type 1 -- will make a difference for me or not. See where I went with that?

  (READ MORE)

Soooo.... I tried not to walk into Dr. R's office last week with a chip on my shoulder -- even recognized that it was there while I was sitting in the room waiting for her and tried to think happy thoughts -- but I don't think I succeeded.

I actually met with Dr. R this time, not the physician's assistant. I should say that I really don't mind meeting with the PA because at this point I feel like I have a good handle on what's going on and what needs to happen. So maybe some of my anxiety with this appointment was more that it was really the first time we've had an appointment together.

And yet, I still can't shake the feeling that we rubbed each other the wrong way. I waited longer than I wanted to for her to come in and when she finally did come in she said she had been looking over my pump records. (READ MORE)

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. (READ MORE)

Yesterday was one of those days that I wondered if I should pack socks in my purse.

You ladies know what I'm talking about. It's that place where doctors put pictures on the ceiling to take your mind off what's going on. Yeah, you guessed it: yesterday I had my annual well woman exam.

In all my years of visiting doctors and having diabetes and explaining my diagnosis and saying why I take what meds I take and how my pregnancies went and that no it wasn't gestational diabetes this was not the appointment I had imagined.

  (READ MORE)

I made a note on my calendar to call Dr. S today about the bloodwork I had done last week. His nurse told me it may be a week or two before I got results and that I could call any time to see if they were in.

I got impatient (go figure!) and called yesterday. After going through automated phone Hell, I got to the voice mail of the nurse. Her mailbox said feel free to leave a message, but be aware that it may take me 72 hours to get back to you. *sigh*

So I left a message fully expecting NOT to hear from her any time soon. I considered calling again today, but even though I'm impatient I'm not a pest. Well, maybe sometimes.

  (READ MORE)