Calling in Sick to a Doctor's Appointment

Does that sound absurd? It should, because it is. And I've done it. Multiple times.

Like today. I wrote about the Somogyi Effect and how I thought I had a handle on it. Yeah, not so much. The good fasting blood sugars are rarer than the ones that are utter garbage. This morning, I woke with a glucose of 403. FOUR HUNDRED AND THREE! You must be thinking, "What on Earth did you eat last night, Rob? An entire chocolate cake?!?" No, my evening snack was a couple of microwave chimichangas, a total of four carbs on a diabetic exchange diet. (Not to be confused with 4 grams of carbs.) My glucose at the time was 126, so I took only enough insulin to cover the meal. My thinking was that if I tried to add just a little more insulin to bring my glucose closer to an idyllic 100 that I'd be risking the slingshot effect of a Somogyi. For all of my careful thinking, I got a fasting glucose of 403.

I had - past tense - a podiatry appointment this morning. I'd just seen my podiatrist nearly two weeks ago, but was still experiencing a bit of pain. When you have advanced Diabetic Neuropathy, a "bit of pain" could be an indicator that something is very wrong. Mind you, the pain has diminished since I called to make the appointment, but I was still going to get it checked out. Better safer than sorrier.

The problem is that I can't go to a doctor's appointment when my blood sugar is so high. I need to monitor it. Take extra insulin if necessary. Be around food in case I overcompensate with my dosing. If I had a Continuous Glucose Monitor (or CGM), this would be less of a concern, as I'd know what my glucose was doing with the application of an app on my phone. But Medicare doesn't cover CGM's. As a result, I called in sick to a doctor's appointment.

The greatest culprit when it comes to missing medical appointments has been my Diabetic Neuropathy. The burning sensation in my skin would make it impossible to wear clothing, since contact with even the softest material would make me want to cry. This wouldn't be a problem if I could just go where I needed to go without a stitch of clothing on, but not only are there laws against that, but no one - and I mean NO ONE! - wants to see me naked.

I sincerely wish people would leave comments to let me know if these lessons and stories are getting through to them. I see some people are reading these meandering musings of mine, but I have no idea what effect I'm having. And no one who's read my last entry has donated to my GoFundMe. (Please, if you can't give, share the link. The sooner I meet that goal, the sooner I can stop worrying about this.)

Anyway, we're nearing the end of my post and I haven't posted a picture of my new wife.

Look at those dimples. LOOK AT THEM!

That, my friends, is English actress Jenna Coleman. As I did when "married" to Jane Douglas, I sent divorce papers to Jenna so that she might escape her relationship with me. It's only fair, right? Alas, an address of "Somewhere in England" probably won't reach her, so she and I will remain a wedded couple... until some other beauty catches my eye and I declare that one my bride. What can I say? I'm capricious.

Until my next post, whenever that may be.