NO Change

Changes – Thursday 5/14 
Today let’s talk about changes, in one of two ways.  Either tell us what you’d most like to see change about diabetes, in any way.  This can be management tools, devices, medications, people’s perceptions, your own feelings – anything at all that you feel could use changing.  OR reflect back on some changes you or your loved one has seen or been through since being diagnosed with diabetes.  Were they expected or did they surprise you?

I read 2 of the posts this morning for the “Changes” theme while I waited at my retina specialist’s office.  I had an early appointment.  It was a gorgeous morning.  I was ready.  My referral however, was not.  I have some new doctors since I had to change insurance coverage.  When I worked with the insurance broker, there was ONE non negotiable for my medical team.  I keep my eye doctor.  No matter what, I keep my retina specialist.

When I was in my mid twenties I took a job in New York City.  Maybe a year into the job, I was sitting at my office drafting table with a drawing on a piece of graph paper.  I had an itch and rubbed my eye while looking at my drawing.  Absolute and complete horror hit me.  The graph paper turned wavy like that fisheye tool in Photoshop.  I uncovered my eye and looked again.  The graph paper looked fine.  I covered my eye with my hand.  The graph paper was wavy.  I moved my head.  The wavy lines moved.  If there is a stronger word than horrified, than I was that word. I had changed to New York doctors but I’d never changed retina specialists since I’d moved.  No way.  I saw the same retina doctor every year from the time I was a little girl and he was considered one of the best in Philadelphia.  Its all a blur now (ahhh bad joke), but I went to my parent’s and saw my doctor.  Yes, non proliferative retinopathy.  I had laser treatments.  I was scared out of my damn mind.  This kept up for maybe another year.  I had to switch to a New York doctor.  My Philly doctor was a big shot.  He recommended a doctor group in New York.  Only a few doctors in the group took my insurance.  The Philly doctor immediately named one of them as the guy I needed to see (see? Oh man, I swear I’m not doing this on purpose).  He told me he was young.  I didn’t want young.  I wanted seasoned.  Philly Dr said this NY Dr just spoke at a retina conference and the head of the NY group was the doctor for a D celebrity.  Ok.  I’d give it a try.

I saw the NY Dr in the late 90s.  Yes he seemed young.  He told me I needed more laser.  This scared me more.  I didn’t know this doctor.  He wasn’t the doctor who’d treated me for years.  Then he told me I had 2 options.  One was the current laser treatment protocol. The other was much more aggressive treatment.  Something new.  I am not doing justice to this story since my brain can’t remember all the technical aspects, but it involved using the laser to cauterize the bleeding vessels AND then to also treat other areas preemptively.  If other places were going to bleed, to make it so those places would be further away from my center of vision.  It made sense to me (sort of) and it involved a lot more laser than I’d previously had.  I could get worse before it got better.  I went for it.  I’ve lost count of how many times he treated me.  Sometimes a little laser, sometimes a lot.  Both eyes were involved.  He was so nice and enthusiastic and we’d talk design and he made it all seem so positive.  I would be there for hours and hours waiting.  Sometimes I cried afterward.  And then there was a time I didn’t need any laser.  And another time and another time.  That last time was over 10 years ago (I think 13).

So I was the patient today without a referral.  It took me forever to get someone at my new primary doctor’s office to answer the phone.  I was apologizing to everyone in the damn office, as I knew I was screwing up the doctor’s schedule (apparently I really wasn’t but I felt like I was).  Letters and numbers projected on a mirror, reading test, the wavy graph. I made lots of jokes.  Waiting.  Eye scans.  The room for the tracking laser tomography.  I walked in and called it “fancy”  the technician shot me a look (it couldn’t be less fancy of a room).  As she set everything up, I called it “exciting”.  Then an “adventure”.  She said, “well that’s one view of it”.  So I explained it to her.  If I consider this an adventure, that the equipment looks “fancy” and this is so freaking exciting, then its a positive set-up.  Everything is less scary when it’s an adventure.  She sat back and said, “Ok, let’s get you back on your fancy adventure”.

 

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There were some hiccups when I got to see my doctor.  They couldn’t get the scans to upload but when one of the technicians said, “There’s something wrong”, my stomach sank to my toe. (I thought they meant with my peepers, not uploading the scans).  My doctor showed me how great my eyes are.  How beautifully the laser from long ago worked. I saw the layers of my eyes and heard how thrilled he is with the results.  Then he said it,

“NO CHANGE”.  

He told me how he thinks all my exercise continues to help my eyes.  Then like everyone I now talk to, we spoke about cycling.  Seriously I have nothing else to talk about anymore really.  He is going on a cycling trip in Italy.  His kids are no longer kids.  And I walked out, dilated pupils like a cartoon character, and orange sunglasses I got for free at Food Bank event, I decided to walk the 30 blocks back to work.  I put on my music and George Michael’s Freedom ’90 song.  I know, I’m so old it’s ridiculous.  I kept the song on repeat the entire walk.  I was all smiles thinking about the theme of DBlogWeek being CHANGE today.  If you know nothing about the song I type of, read this: George Michael’s Freedom ’90.  It’s interesting, about his changing.  I walked with swagger.  I smiled at every damn person.  No Change!

I walked in the door of my office and took my iTunes off repeat.  Next up, Iggy Azalea’s ‘Fancy”.  My fancy, exciting, adventure to the eye doctor.  They won’t all be winners.  I don’t expect them to be and there will be many more bumps in the road.  But today, was a No Change.

Cleaning? Phewy.

Clean it Out – Wednesday 5/13 
Yesterday we kept stuff in, so today let’s clear stuff out.  What is in your diabetic closet that needs to be cleaned out?  This can be an actual physical belonging, or it can be something you’re mentally or emotionally hanging on to.  Why are you keeping it and why do you need to get rid of it?  (Thank you Rick of RA Diabetes for this topic suggestion.)

Hey, I didn’t keep it “in” yesterday.  I let it out.  I thought a few times after I hit “post’, that if I’m talking about my conflicting feelings that I have too much information out there, I was willingly increasing that “out there-ness” with yesterday’s post.  Any second guessing myself thoughts were erased last night.  I was on my way home when I checked my email. Every note about the post yesterday made me cry.  The notes were beautiful, some heart breaking but all so touching and relatable.  Dammit these eyes are all misty just typing this.

As for things you need to physically toss… oh where do I start?  About a month or so ago I ended up with a sinus infection that knocked me on my derriere for 3 full days.  I wondered if I was actually dying and do people die from sinus/bronchial infections.  I don’t have an answer to that, since I couldn’t keep my head up long enough to do research.  As I slowly lost my mind being trapped in my apartment and peaking around for the grim reaper (and misplacing the TV remote and watching 4 episodes of Keeping Up With The Kardashians… who i learned are tought to keep up with for sure), I started going through my diabetes cabinet.  Please note, this sounds like I’m organized.  Smoke and mirrors my friends (dry ice anyone?).  I have a diabetes cabinet and then Dexcom boxes on shelves, back-up syringes in a closet, old pump supplies on other shelves… you get the picture right?  Oh and I almost forgot there is a secret hiding spot in the wall under my bed.  I refer to that as “the Well”.  I dropped a pair of tweezers in there once and never saw them again.  Scary.

So I started going through the diabetes stuff.  If asked, I would have guessed there were supplies that were expired and probably the earliest date was 2011.  Nope. 2005.  Yes, I have pump supplies that have discolored.  You know why?  Because they are over 10 years old!!!! EXPIRED 10 years ago so I have probably had them for 12 years and they belong to an old pump I would need a training class to ever use again.  Now, you can make a solid argument that I am just messy and that’s the whole pathetic story.  That argument is indeed solid.  Although the demise of my sinuses got me to go through ALL the stuff, I kept some of it.  What?!?!  Hoarder?  Maybe (probably), but when I think of things like the week there was NO electricity in my neighborhood during Superstorm Sandy, or the denial letter for my Dexcom from the insurance company (still not worked out but things seem to be going in my favor), I worry that someday, the most recent “expired” supplies will be useful.  If nothing else, I could form an escape rope out of all the pump tubing right?  I mean I’d need to learn some speed knitting but it could happen, no?

Yep I kept supplies that expired in 2013 (2005-2012 bit the dust). Hopefully I will never have to use the 2013 or 2014 supplies, but there is a weird sense in comfort knowing that they are there, and that’s ok by me.  Maybe I’ll turn them into an art project the next time I’m home sick, because seriously, cleaning is/was the worst.

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Painful Secrets?

Day 2 of Diabetes Blog Week #Dblogweek:

It is Diabetes Blog Week.  Karen at Bitter Sweet Diabetes wrote (in 2012?), “If you don’t have a blog but have thought about starting one, now is the perfect time”, so I did (which was my first post).  For more information on Diabetes Blog Week please check this out. And thanks Karen for putting this all together.

Keep it to Yourself 
Many of us share lots of aspects of our diabetes lives online for the world to see.  What are some of the aspects of diabetes that you choose to keep private from the internet?  Or from your family and friends?  Why is it important to keep it to yourself?  

I started writing my response to these questions, about my dating life and thought maybe 10x that I should go with this from a different angle or just not at all, but I work best with a stream of consciousness approach and heavy doses of unedited “winging it” so here goes.  I was in a serious relationship when I started this blog years ago and my then partner was referenced in my early posts, often.  I have not tackled dating here for a multitude of reasons, and diabetes is not the reason I didn’t find “the one” (please note that there is an eye roll that goes with typing that, “the one”), but diabetes has played a role in my relationships, to varying degrees, along with many other non-D aspects of life.

There is something specific to dating that has occurred with me in recent months.  If you have followed me on twitter, or you know me, you might know I participated in an Artificial Pancreas trial back in November.  It was pretty incredible.  Since that time, I wrote about my experiences for JDRF, A Sweet Life, have spoken at various JDRF Type One Summits, spoken on behalf of Mount Sinai hospital, did interviews with some diabetes publications, ended up on the local news and witnessed a newspaper interview I did, get picked-up internationally.  Wow.  Sounds braggy right?  I agreed to all these things for the reason that I want people to understand and learn about T1D.  I want to help further the cause and if my body and my time enabled Artificial Pancreas research to progress, then I can use my mouth and my brain to explain both my experience and also why I believe research and diabetes research funding are so damn important.  I could go on and on, but that’s not the point of today’s post.

What I considered but didn’t really fathom, was Google.  I don’t hide the fact that I’m T1D (or PWD, but I never remember to use that terminology).  I have been google-able for a long time.  As far as T1D goes, my JDRF Walk team has had fundraising stuff all over the damn interwebs for years.  There is no hiding and that’s not my desire anyway.  The press over the AP trial though, I didn’t/don’t control.  An article that says I’m haunted by T1D (Seriously? I want ghosts if that’s true.  I want ghosts that can go do stuff for me… pick up dry cleaning, walk the dog, give me a massage and go scare my obnoxiously loud neighbors, etc).  According to a reporter, I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in 35 years (I was diagnosed in 1979.  I must look like a zombie!).  I am a horrendous sleeper but not just because a Dexcom has beeped at me periodically over the past few years.  I live in Manhattan.  It’s effing loud here, people. Or my favorite, that I’ve “suffered” with T1D since I was a child.  Yeah it hasn’t been a walk in the park, but the word “suffered’ is drop-kick worthy to me. You get the point.  Sometimes the facts were corrected in online press, but printed press is, well… printed.  And now when it comes to dating, and even in some recent business situations, people actually Google me.  Instead of explaining to someone new that I’m T1D and what that entails, the internet gives them a slew of information, not necessarily spun how I would introduce it and sometimes not quite accurate.

Can I have Space Ghost?  Chiseled jaw and funny? Check.

Can I have Space Ghost? Chiseled jaw and funny? Check.

I have to admit though it isn’t all bad news for dating.  I went out with someone a while ago who I had to keep rescheduling our get togethers (yep, I’m good like that).  At one point, in a casual conversation, he text me that he had Googled me.  Oy.  He made comments about my career success and some photos (hey thanks), but he never mentioned T1D.  I knew he knew.  So I waited, until I actually wasn’t rescheduling dates and while we were out, he seemed to bring it up -ish, you know, Google and I helped him out.  We discussed T1D.  He clearly did some homework (huge plus in my book) and finally asked where I put my pump.  I pointed between my boobs (I rarely wear my pump there but the dress I was wearing had no other good spot).  Nothing like an ice breaker where you have actually encouraged a guy to stare at your chest.  And then it happened, I know this sounds like a Romantic Comedy, but as soon as I pointed to my chest, I went over my target blood glucose (ps I’m on an Animas Vibe and the screen was facing outward) and my pump beeped and then lit up!  Right through the dress, a blue light. Yep so I had a guy staring at my boobs and then my chest beeped and lit up like I’d swallowed a strobe light.  After explaining, “no I did not do that by pointing at my chest”, it was good for some laughs and then I’m sorry to say, unlike a romantic comedy, he wasn’t “the one” either, but the two other times we went out, I was truly amazed at how he showed-up clearly having done more and more T1D research and we have actually stayed friends since.

There have been some, what I consider, bee sting moments too (well more like a wasp).  In a way, I am relieved I can weed out the “possibles” from the “toss to the curbs”, thanks to some AP press, but let’s face it, those bee sting “Oh Wait,  You’re Sick?  I can’t handle sick!”  moments happened both in my 20s and 30s.  They were rare, but yes, they happened and nothing has ever been as shocking as a 3rd date I went on in my late 20s where the guy went nuts on me in a restaurant about how I misrepresented myself and he doesn’t deal with sick people.  It was awful, he had had a few drinks, got louder, wouldn’t shut-up and I left in tears.  The end of that story though is I’d been set up with him by a friend and a year later she told me he had testicular cancer.  I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, even a boy who made me cry, but maybe he has a different perspective on “sick people” now.

So there you have it.  This is one of a few things I don’t talk about online and for the record, I would do another AP trial again in a heartbeat.  I would do all the press in the world and write as many stories about it as I could as I believe so strongly in research.  The clinical trial experience is like nothing else I’ve ever done and it opened my mind and my heart to the people who are trying to bring this technology to all of us haunted by T1D (sorry I couldn’t resist).  I might get a Casper cut-out on my bike for the JDRF Burlington ride.

And as for the question of why this is important to keep to myself, I just realized it isn’t, is it?

Print

Freaky Friday- Give Me A Break

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Just like in the movie, today we’re doing a swap. If you could switch chronic diseases, which one would you choose to deal with instead of diabetes? And while we’re considering other chronic conditions, do you think your participation in the DOC has affected how you treat friends and acquaintances with other medical conditions? (Thanks to Jane of Jane K. Dickinson, RN, PhD, CDE and Bob of T Minus Two for this topic suggestion.)

I’m Feisty and it’s Friday.  I have thought quite a bit this question throughout the week.  In my mind, I have answered this many different ways but always come to the same conclusion, no, I would not switch T1D with another chronic disease and I’m annoyed with myself for thinking about this as much as I have.

In the past 5 years of my life, among my close friends, I have witnessed the following: a friend diagnosed, fight and BEAT the shirt out of breast cancer; a beloved friend diagnosed with cancer and three weeks later watching him take his last breath on this earth; a friend diagnosed with MS; a friend’s constant battle with debilitating depression; a friend responding VERY favorably to a Lupus treatment.  In a phrase that was often part of my Catholic upbringing, “We all have our own cross to bear”.  I believe this is true, so no, I’m not entertaining the idea of switching.

The EXACT spot I thought of SurfaceFine is across the street past the double parked van.  Please notice my favorite building in the top left corner.

The EXACT spot I thought of SurfaceFine is across the street past the double parked van. Please notice my favorite building in the top left corner.

It’s been a year since I started Surfacefine.  Rarely does anyone question the name (you know, the 6 people who read it).  The name came from a moment when I was considering participating in Diabetes Blog Week (again, way to go Karen).  I woke up early to go to the gym.  I had an appointment to workout with a trainer so there was not an option to cancel.  My bg was in the high 200’s when I woke up.  For all intensive purposes we’ll just say it was 300.  I had an hour before I had to leave for my appointment.  Correction bolus taken plus a little additional rage bolus for good measure.  No ketones.  I practically drowned in my attempts to hydrate and flush my system.  As I walked to the gym, I checked my Dexcom at every intersection.  The arrow continued to angle downward.  I know it’s counteractive to workout that far out of range.  I also know I had to pay that trainer if I canceled.  I saw my neighbor on a street corner.  She  made a comment about my going to the gym and “good for you”.  As I race walked my way along, I couldn’t help but think of my attire.  There I was in my new sneakers, dressed in spandex, moisture-wicking gym clothes, hair in a messy ponytail looking the part of the committed health nut.  No one who saw me knew there was a bedazzled Dexcom sensor in my arm under my jacket, a Dexcom receiver vibrating that my blood glucose level was too high in my pocket, an insulin pump connected to my abdomen with it’s clip pulling down my pants, that I was thinking how I had put a temporary basal rate reduction into my pump soon because the exercise would drop me too much.  If I canceled, the outside world would never know it wasn’t because I was a lazy bum who over slept, the world would never “see” that my bg was too high that morning.  A morning smile to people I met or recognized on the street.  Rosy cheeks from the uphill hike through my neighborhood.  A heart pumping sugary blood through my veins while my organs worked double duty trying to flush it out my system while my body absorbed the extra jolt of insulin pouring through me.

Yes, on the surface, I’m fine.

 

 

Memories AKA My BIG Announcement – Wednesday 5/15

I am writing these #DBlogWeek entries out of order (shocking, I know) and managed to completely miss yesterday (Tuesday’s) post.  I’ll get to it.

If you’re interested in learning more about Diabetes Blog Week, go here.  If you are interested on reading other diabetes blogger’s entries on the topic below, check THIS OUT (believe me, this will introduce you to some really great people in the #DOC and keep you very busy).

Today we’re going to share our most memorable diabetes day. You can take this anywhere…. you or your loved one’s diagnosis, a bad low, a bad high, a big success, any day that you’d like to share. (Thanks to Jasmine of Silver-Lined for this topic suggestion.)

I’ve been mulling this question over for days.  I tend to be a look-at-the-bright-side-of-life thinker.  I thought about some of my BIG diabetes moments and how I simply don’t remember them and what a good thing THAT is.  Like when I was a little girl and had a severe hypo (unconscious and seizing) in my parent’s bathroom.  Glucagon given, the ambulance didn’t show up in time, a local police lieutenant friend of my Dad’s arrived and transported me to the hospital, sirens blazing, while I practically cut my Dad’s index finger to the bone.  My jaw had locked on my Dad’s finger as he was trying to keep me from choking to death.  Nah, that’s not the kind of stuff that defines my life.  That’s not my memory anyway.  It is a horrific memory for my parents.

The guy who almost lost a finger:

Reading is fun

What about the time in 5th grade when a school assembly was changed?  Being on Regular insulin as short acting insulin didn’t encourage schedule flexibility (but at the time, that’s as far as technology had gone).  I played the violin (terribly I might add) and orchestra practice was also changed because of the assembly change and well, you can see where this is going.  My morning snack was thrown off, I don’t recall lunch, and apparently in one of my classes, I stood up, declared I loved one of my classmates, and dropped to the floor.  My teacher tried shoving juice and food down my throat, although I was unconscious.  THAT was a bad idea.  I don’t remember any of this.  I remember the assembly and waking up the next day in the hospital and puking like crazy.  To this day, I have no idea who I declared I loved in my 5th grade class.  My Dad must have scared the sh-t out of my classmates too because no one ever told me, they never brought up what had happened, and they sent me cards.  Nope, this is not my diabetes memory, this is just a sad and scary blur.

I want this to be a good memory blog post.  A REALLY good memory.  My memory is from YESTERDAY.  Yep, less than 24 hours ago.  I hadn’t planned to mention this until everything was finalized but let’s face it, THIS keeps drowning out all my other diabetes success and failure stories in my own mind.  If you know me or have ever read my blog or seen my tweets, you know how diligently I have worked over the years with JDRF.  I am incredibly proud of my JDRF Friends and Family Team, Alecia’s Stem Cells.  I am amazed by all the places we’ve walked (NYC, Boston, LA).  I am in awe of all the people who tirelessly support our team and me.  I am grateful to my parent’s for getting involved in JDRF when I was diagnosed in 1979.

I was fortunate to attend a JDRF Research Update last month presented by the president of JDRF, Jeffrey Brewer.  I loved hearing about where the money is going, the technologies and research.  I found it energizing.  The timing couldn’t have been better as a month prior, it had been mentioned to me that I was a possible candidate for my local JDRF branch’s BOARD.  Say what?!

Jeffrey said something that has been swirling around in my head for weeks (well actually he said a lot of somethings like when he spoke about micro occlusions in pump sites that go undetected by the pump which makes PERFECT sense to me).  He talked about how the next generation of insulin pumps combined with CGM technologies are available in EVERY OTHER FIRST WORLD COUNTRY BUT OURS (oh yeah, I live in the US).  He also spoke a bit about the FDA, lobbyist, and JDRF’s involvement.  In my mind, these are the things I want to be involved in.  As much as I truly enjoy my roll as a diabetes mentor and spreading diabetes education, I believe there is a next step for me.  I want to be part of the change I wish to see in the world.

So yesterday I had lunch with the head of the nominating committee at my local JDRF.  We had a lot in common and I didn’t hold back my opinions on my local chapter’s direction and off the cuff ideas for increasing involvement and community awareness.  I am, by nature, a do-er.  I am a planner.  I love having goals.  I’m also pretty nerdy and creative.

This morning I received all the forms I need to fill-out and the invitation to the meeting where my new role as a Board member will be announced in June.  I cried when I called my parents yesterday to tell them.  There have been a few instances in my life where I truly felt I had a calling to do something.  This happens to be one of those moments in my life and it happens to be my diabetes memory.

 

Share and Don’t Share – Monday 5/13/1

Last year I wrote my first, real Surfacefine blog post during Diabetes Blog Week 2012.  I am thrilled to be able to participate again this year as well.  For more information on the 4th Annual Diabetes Blog Week (and be prepared to read some really fantastic posts from a variety of perspectives, Check this out http://www.bittersweetdiabetes.com/2013/05/diabetes-blog-week.html :

D blog week

Here’s today’s topic:

Often our health care team only sees us for about 15 minutes several times a year, and they might not have a sense of what our lives are really like. Today, let’s pretend our medical team is reading our blogs. What do you wish they could see about your and/or your loved one’s daily life with diabetes? On the other hand, what do you hope they don’t see?  (Thanks to Melissa Lee of Sweetly Voiced for this topic suggestion.)

Wait a second!  Does the blog reading cut into our 15 minutes of seeing our medical team?  If so, I’ll just copy the bullet points I read off my phone during my appointments and make those questions into my next blog post!

Alright this is serious, so here goes: My Endo is a T1D.  She has been diabetic longer than I have (I was diagnosed in 1979).  She is married and has two kids.  I knew her long before all of that.  I’m pretty sure as a fellow T1D, there would be nothing shocking or even surprising about my blog (well actually that I crack jokes when I write but I don’t have time for that when I see her) Although I have joked in the past that meeting with my endo is like this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NeK5ZjtpO-M

I appreciate that my endo is a T1D too.  When I was kid and had been a T1D for a few years, my family switched pediatricians.  Yep, we switched to a pediatrician who was a T1D too (what’s up Dr. Selig?).  Guess what else?  My podriatrist is a T1D too.  Do you sense a theme here?

I don’t have anything huge that I would want my doctors to see or not see if they read my blog, BUT if the question were about my health insurance company, then yes, I have a strong opinion on this one:

Dear Health Insurance Company Who I Will Not Name Because As Much As I Fight You, I Also Fear You,

Do you remember last year when you sent me a letter about how I should be getting regular A1Cs and then explained what an HbA1c is?  Do you recall how the letter pointed out that I am missing items/tests for “good” diabetic care?  Do you also remember that I chose to ignore it instead of confront you on how insulting it was?  I did that because you scare the hell out of me.  You and I both know  I am on a private plan since although I work in a partnership, I am the only one who needs health insurance (as in: others have spousal health insurance or Medicare).  We also probably both know that I have found alternative plans over the years but what I would save in premiums would be spent covering deductibles, so here we are.

We started together for a few reasons, but the most important one was my opthomologist had switched plans and I had to scramble.  I hope to never know how low I would sink to keep seeing my opthomologist (his group treats a celebrity with diabetes. If that doesn’t matter to you, great.  It is a HUGE vote of confidence to me).  My primary care physician is also part of your plan and she’s got a great working relationship with my endo so that’s an added bonus.  You know who doesn’t participate with your plan?  My Endo!  Crazy right?  Especially because she DID participate with your plan, left her hospital, went into pharma sales, came back to another hospital about 30 blocks away and I am happily back under her care, but she isn’t one of your plan’s endos.

At one point I saw 3 endos in your plan.  1 is my current endo.  Another was a very young doctor who although “nice” she seemed to want to be my friend more than my doctor.  I stuck with her for awhile although I questioned her T1D experience.  She left for a pharma job too.  I even had an appointment with her replacement.  It became very clear that not only did I know more than he did, BUT that he couldn’t answer ANY of my questions.

So Insurance Company, I have given you the benefit of the doubt with that letter of yours about what I’m doing wrong with my diabetes care.  I pay out-of-pocket to my endo.  I am beyond lucky to be able to do that.  I get all blood work done a week before my appointments, with a prescription, at one of your labs.  I don’t get any labs at all done in her office like her other patients.  For all you know, I do not see an endocrinologist at all… EXCEPT you pay for my blood work at your labs.  You pay for my HbA1c and microalbumin tests.  The prescription for the tests and the results come from and go to that very doctor who is not part of your plan.   You can continue acting like I don’t see an endo.  You can pay for my Dexcom which had all the proper paperwork for medical necessity as did my pump.  You can keep covering my ACE Inhibitor under my prescription plan too.  You can keep seeing these prescriptions come through my endo’s office and you can remain clueless when I tell you I wave my right to have YOUR on staff nurse (with no specialty in diabetes) review my case to perhaps give me some pointers and recommendations.

Getting back to the question above, my dear health insurance company, you can raise my rate $100 a month EVERY year for 4 years running, and I will work harder to make more money too.  I don’t want you to ever see I have a blog.  I don’t want to be anything more that a code number to you.  I don’t want you to know about my challenges and victories as a diabetic.  I will fight you over billing errors, but I don’t want to ever be on your radar.  I will spend hours trying to figure out how to work with you and when or if that doesn’t pan out, I will spend those same hours working around you.  I’ll keep signing the checks, and take care of myself.  You keep making your “suggestions” so I’ll mock you in my blog.

xoxo,

Surfacefine or perhaps Diabetes Batman would be a little more secretive.