Yesterday I had my AlC appointment, one that I'd moved out a few weeks because I knew my numbers had been high.
I blamed this on my mother being seriously ill since November, resulting in a lot of stress and poor eating patterns (oh yeah, we can throw in Xmas, Valentine's Day and Easter too).
I had a very sleepless night and thought that it would be nice if the clinic went back to their old ways of mailing you the results vs. getting them while you're there. That way I wouldn't have to explain myself to the doc.
Mean nurse comes in and puts the bp cuff on the same arm they'd drawn 5 tubes of blood out of. I suggest using the other arm, and she's already inflating it. A big arc of blood shoots out, onto the floor, the desk, my t-shirt and hair.
Doc comes in and asks what the hell happened and I started sobbing - since I take brain meds, I rarely cry, and this startled me. After things were cleaned up, he asks how I am and I start crying again, saying my mother's been sick and I'm having a hard time dealing with it-
and oh, by the way, my sugars have been very high.
He swings the computer screen around and says, "yes, you're AlC is higher than last time - it's up to 7.5".
7.5 - WTF - I was expecting at least 9%. This must be a lab error - wrong patient, wrong day, something is screwed up.
"No, Kathy - that's you on the screen. Now let's just take a look at your records. Hmmmmm. The numbers do seem pretty high at times."
He asks if I have any other issues to address, and leaves. I drift out, feeling like diabetes is always trying to play games - show me that I'm not as smart as I think I am.......I hate it. This was just as bad as someone who expects a lower readng and it comes back high. The unexpected. Unpredictable. Major suckage.
I then go back to the counter and ask to speak to the doc again.
"Maybe I have anemia."
"No, Kathy, you don't have anemia. We did a full blood count."
"Maybe I have some other problem with my red blood cells - something life-threatening."
"That's highly unlikely."
Mean nurse, who is leafing through a Crate & Barrel catalog, looks at me like I'm a crazywoman. At that point, I sure felt like it.
I have the right to expect some consistency - this is the first A1C that I've been way off at guessing, and I feel stupid and inadequate. Diabetes does not have a right to do this to me. That big old troll needs to stay under the bridge.