Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Rah-rah, sis-boom-bah, kick D in the pants, ha ha ha!

Yesterday was the dreaded A1C appointment with my endo and, since I'm a glutton for punishment, I'd also scheduled my dilation with my ophthalmologist. A double-whammy for anyone, but as a self-flagellator with a graduate degree in beating myself up I was primed for a day of sulking and self-lectures.

It's been a rough couple of carb-heavy months since I stopped eating meat (beans everywhere!) and I'm still adjusting my body and my brain to the pump - I was figuring low 7s on the A1C if I was lucky, a jump from my 6.7 in November. And, with a jump on the ol' A1C, who's to say that doesn't mean my eye spots have proliferated?

As usual, I spent the two weeks before in a complete mess of nerves, lugging around logs for the doctor and trying to wrangle my all-over-the-place stress BGs. The only silver lining I had going into Monday was the totally crazy opportunity to meet @amblass who just happened to have an appointment with our doctor a mere 30 minutes before I did. (Our T1 world is so small sometimes....)

Long story short:

  • 6.4 on the A1C (I actually yelped and waved my hands around - I think I scared the doc), which I'm still not sure how I managed
  • The eyes may or may not have stayed stable. Apparently, Dr. Eyeballs has better equipment at the center--he wasn't sure if my right eye spots was always two little spots or now has a friend who's hanging out with it. After 10 minutes being reassured about how I shouldn't freak out (including Doc E taking pictures of my eyeball insides, which look like yolks or some other nastiness, so I could see for myself what the spots look like), I think I finally believed that it was a good report.
B took me out for a celebratory diner breakfast - all the hard work for that sub-6.0 (food scales! more measuring and counting!) could wait for one more day.


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