The last time I saw Dr. R (my new endo's office), the lady who checked me in noticed that I had just been in the week before. She joked, "Has anything changed since the last time you were here?"

We said something about how often I'm at the office and she said (strangely since it is an endo's office), "Well hopefully you'll get the issue figured out."

"Nope," I said. "I'm a lifer."

They always ask if I have a primary care doctor. I had thought about asking Dr. R if she could be my PCP, but even without asking it seems clear that my internal medicine issues would be better served with an internist.

I have a lot of doctors: girly issues, eyes, pancreas, blah, blah, blah. And since moving here I have yet to replace Harry. I know I should. I know I need to find someone who I can call when I have a scratchy throat or when I throw out my back or when there's a freaky pain in my ribs.

Finding a PCP is nearly as hard as finding an endo. And I'd really like to find an internist who understands diabetes even a little. So that when I go in for a scratchy throat or whatever other ailment I'm dealing with, the PCP knows that diabetes is a major factor in whatever treatment options we have.

I've had "find a doctor" on my to-do list for way too long. We've been here nearly a year (holy crap it's been almost a year!) and I have yet to call a potential office. I spent some time today scouring my insurance company web site to see if I could find a doctor whose name I could pronounce and whose degree came from somewhere in the United States.

This is not easy stuff for me. I often reserve this kind of research for my teleworking days, so my Wednesday calendar again says, "find a doctor."