Coming to Grips

I thought this post would be easier to write.  It was intended to be the second post, but others intruded, and this one...seemed to want to wait.

So my official diagnosis day was 10/2/2009.  That was around noon, when my morning blood work came back.

But I really view the beginning of my life with Diabetes as beginning on the Monday after that, 10/5.  That's when I had the followup with my doctor, and when it all really sunk in.  Also, when I got my glucometer and my first batch of insulin and insulin supplies.

But...I'm dawdling. :)  This is catharsis about my actual discovery.

In retrospect, I think some of my memories of the Friday morning and Monday morning are a bit confused, conflated.

So, on the Friday afternoon, I was told that I was, for certain, diabetic.  I had set up a followup with my physician for Monday morning, as they wanted to start treating me right away.  My test results confirmed that, with a 330 BG and an a1c of around 13.  (Need to find out exactly what it was for my records.)

The Monday appointment was one of the longest hours of my life.  In fact, I don't know exactly how long I was in the office.  Time seems to warp around significant events.

I remember hearing a lot about how to take insulin, and the use of the pen being demonstrated for me.  I got a basic formula for how much to take and how often, how much to take for correctives, the difference between Levemir and Novolog.  Stuff like that.

All I'd been hoping over the weekend (knowing that I was diabetic, but not knowing too much about what that meant) was that I wouldn't have to be on insulin.

So here was my insulin.

The big thing I remember:

Fear.  I remember being so very afraid, afraid of complications, afraid of insulin overdose, afraid of all the things I didn't know.  Which was a lot.  Still is, though I feel like I've learned an awful lot in the month that's gone by since then.

I almost broke down into tears at least three times during the appointment.  I was a mess.  I remember not being able to find my way out of the doctor's office diagnostic area, but I'm pretty sure that's a memory from Friday morning instead of Monday morning.  I've never had a great sense of direction, and it's especially bad when I'm under stress.  Ironic, since I'm a network engineer by profession.

It helped a lot that the nurse told me she was diabetic, and taking shots.  I had taken allergy shots as a kid, so giving myself injections wasn't the worst idea in the world.  Still, I wasn't looking forward to it.  I didn't know how invasive the new treatment regime would be, and I was a little afraid that people wouldn't understand, and would think less of me because of it.

I was still a mess when I left the office.  My next stop was to go to the pharmacy to pick up my first batch of prescriptions.  I waited over 2 hours, while several...discrepancies...were worked out between what my health insurance was willing to cover and what I'd been prescribed.  And the pharmacy was unusually busy.

I also remember picking up a 24-can case of Diet Mt. Dew.  I had never before in my life deliberately bought diet cola for myself, that I can remember.  But I knew that the sugar in regular would do me much more harm than good.  It was one of the first milestones in my acceptance of my condition.

I got a referral to talk to the local CDE on Tuesday afternoon - apparently someone had cancelled.  Lucky me. :)

I did my first glucose test Monday night - and took my first Levemir dose.  More on those later.  The glucose test was especially comical. :)