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.

"Have you ever downloaded your pump information to the Medtronic web site," she asked.

"Oh, yes," I said. "I used to do that for my doctor in Missouri every couple weeks. And ever since we moved here I've been looking for a doctor who wants me to do that, so I'd be more than happy to give you my user name and password..."

"Well, actually," she said, "our goal is to get you to be able to interpret this information on your own and be able to make any tweaks that need to be made because really you understand your body better than any of us could."

"Thank you for saying that," I said. I thought maybe the chip had gone. But then...

"Overall it looks like you're waking up too high," she said.

"Well, I actually want to wake up a little on the high side because I take a walk first thing in the morning and I don't want to have to eat first, so waking up at 150 is kind of OK to me," I tried to explain.

"Oh, OK. That makes sense. Just make sure you take a fanny pack with..."

I cut her off. "Yeah, I take a fanny pack with my phone and a juice box..."

"Well, remember," she said, "when you're treating a low you want to aim for about 15 grams of carbs..."

"I take these little juice boxes that are about 25 grams," I said.

"O-kaaayyy," she said in that I'm-done-arguing-about-this tone.

It was almost like a battle of wills. If I know my body better than she does, then why isn't it OK for me to treat a low with a 25-gram juice box?

Aside from talking about my thyroid nodule, I felt like most of the appointment was us more or less trying to figure out who knew more about me. I'm frustrated with this whole process.