Like Spinal Tap

December 24, 2014

My mom and I have determined that, while most people’s stress meters only go to 10, mine goes to 11.  And it’s been running right around there of late.  Which is not helping my blood sugar control.  Maybe.

You see, my insurance only covers my testing supplies if I get them from a durable medical equipment company, so I can’t just go to Walgreens.  But there’s a great mail-order company that can send me a 90-day supply, which should get me to my C-section with no problem.  Except I didn’t hear from them on Friday.  Or Saturday.  Or Sunday.  So Sunday evening, I sent an email to Wendy so that she’d see it first thing on Monday.  She called the company and emailed back that they’d be calling again and if I didn’t hear from them, I should call and ask for Paula.  I waited about five minutes before going ahead and calling myself.

Paula insists she left a message on Saturday, but she admits that maybe she misdialed.  (She must have.  I have no missed messages and no unheard voicemail.)  She said that everything was set, and I would receive everything on Tuesday.

Except I didn’t.  I got home from work, and there was nothing telling me I had a package at the office.  So I called again.  And was told that it had been sent USPS and should arrive on Friday.  Ultimately, I wound up on hold with Paula while she was on hold with Borgess trying to find out if Wendy had enough samples to get me through Friday.  She did, but that didn’t fix the fact that I had one strip left and three tests before I would see her.  I was told to save the one to take my fasting sugar this morning.

I already didn’t feel good.  Yes, my afternoon snack came back up.  Fortunately, I hadn’t started eating dinner yet when it did so.  And then I slept terribly.  I was probably awake for four hours in the middle of the night.  And my fasting was high.  Which helped so much.

But Wendy was great.  I’ve lost about two pounds, but she said that was pretty normal during the first week following a GD diagnosis, so she wasn’t concerned.  (This also means I’m probably doing better rehydrating from being sick than I feel like I’ve been doing.  Seriously, when I was lying there in the middle of the night, I felt so dry that I thought I might have to tell my mom that we needed to go to the ER after we saw Wendy.  But I was able to drink enough before the appointment that I felt much better.)  She said I might lose a bit more weight over the next week, but then it should balance out and I should start gaining again.  She also said there was a pretty clear correlation between the days my nausea is really bad and my elevated readings, but that none of them were so high as to be worrisome.  Being a point or two high isn’t great, but it’s okay.  And she said she knew my PTSD wasn’t making it easy for me to handle everything right now.  I didn’t have to say it.  She used the phrase without prompting.  And that really means a lot.  She told me that I’m doing a good job (even though I don’t always feel like I am).  It was a good appointment.

Now we just need to deal with the nausea.  But I see the OB on Monday (not Dr Winter; it was hard to find someone because of the holiday week).  We’d already planned to talk about how bad the NVP has gotten, but Wendy also sent an email to Dr Moser (who I will see) and Dr Winter about how it’s making it difficult for me to control my sugar regularly.  There really isn’t much else they can give me.  But maybe if I go back to the B6 injections instead of taking it orally, that will help.

Speaking of which, it’s time for my evening dose.


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