I get to the parking garage, check my blood sugar (118 mg/dL), and head to the office armed with my Dexcom printouts. I only wait 30 minutes (woo!) before my name was called. The nurse takes my weight (I didn't ask her if it had gone down since last time, I didn't wanna know), my blood pressure (122/86), and my blood sugar (118 mg/dL, yay for accuracy!) and A1c draw. I've written before that it is torture to get my A1c taken at my doctor's because I have the pleasure of watching the timer inch its way down from 5 minutes to 0:00. My heart felt like it was about to jump out of my chest before I saw the number.
|I'll take that.|
"Good job," the nurse said. "The doctor will be in shortly." I immediately texted Trey the number, to which he responded, "woohoo!"
My doctor walked in and excitedly said, "Hi, Holly!" He was obviously pleased with my decrease in my A1c from 6.8% back in February. He asked me how I thought my blood sugars were doing, and I said I was pleased with them but just trying to avoid the lows with working out. We also discussed the possibility of me getting pregnant, and my doctor made the point that even though I'm doing well with my control now, that it's much easier to be in control when you're doing it for someone else. That is so true! There have been plenty of times where I SWAGed for a piece of cake or didn't wait 30 minutes after taking a bolus to eat because I didn't care about the consequences. If I were pregnant at those times, I guarantee that I would think twice about SWAGing for the key lime pie.
I was also given a copy of my lab work that I had done last week, and this is the first time I've ever been given a copy of the results. It's quite extensive, but my doctor said my results were stellar. I can spend time deciphering all the codes later. He scheduled my next appointment and left. I grabbed my mounds of paperwork (Dexcom graphs, pump downloads, and lab work results) and made my way to the receptionist to checkout.
I started getting a little choked up thinking about all the hard work I've done, the hope of a successful pregnancy, and the peace that my body is perfectly healthy despite having a chronic illness. I celebrated my success my grabbing a caramel macchiato on the way to work.
Now, about that coffee addiction . . .