Except for the fact that she was now talking my ear off telling me about her 18 year old son and this and that and blah blah... I quickly grabbed whatever cheese I had my hand on. My only concern was, can this woman get to where she's going? Do I need to go get a store clerk or maybe push her all the way home? I could not walk away knowing she needed help. So I tried, through more stories of god knows what, to see if she needed my assistance. She kept saying "no". So I didn't push the matter. She said, "Oh I can walk, just not far." And then it happened. She looked at me with that "feel sorry for me" face. You know, head slightly tilted, eyebrows raised and furrowed and she said following a big sigh, "arthritis". Like I'm supposed to get it or something. Next thing I know she's going on AND ON about her chair and her arthritis.
I said nothing aside from the comment, "Machines, you can't trust 'em." while simultaneously walking away. I got around to the other side of the shelf and she was STILL talking to me!
I couldn't get that look on her face and the pity in her voice out of my mind when she said "*sigh* arthritis". I mean no disrespect to anybody out there who suffers from arthritis. I just have issues with that face. I know why too. It's the same face I get from the occasional stranger when they find out I have diabetes. Yeah, diseases just seem to illicit the "poor you" or in this woman's case the "poor ME" attitude.
Later I had a doctor's appointment. Between the different kinds of meds and the upping of the doses of meds and the therapy, I am now scheduled to see a psychiatrist. For fucksake. 'nuff said.
I took a picture of the waiting room for the Waiting with Diabetes group on Flickr. I was in there for insulin and Glucagon prescriptions too. My Glucagon expired a million years ago and it's been in a box in the basement. I don't even know how to use it. SO, I'm trying to change that. Be a better more prepared diabetic. It was a bit unfortunate when she had no idea what Glucagon was and I had to explain it to her. In her defence, she is just my GP and not my endo but whatever. What made the appointment even more irritating is when she walked into the room and saw me.
The first thing she said was, "Have you gained weight?"
Who says that? not even my doctor, I don't care. The thing that bugs me the most about this has nothing to do with vanity because I'm totally happy with my body. It's that I've ramped up my exercise even more since the marathon. My entire body has changed a lot over the past year. I have not lost any weight per say, it's just been re-distributed. I've gained muscle where I never had it before and lost fat where I did have it before. My clothes all fit different. Not tighter, just... different. They are tighter around my quads and looser around my waist.
It was just disheartening to hear that. Thanks lady. You kind of just shit in my cornflakes.
Lastly, I accidentally bought the wrong box of test strips the other week. I asked for Freestyle Lite and without looking the woman gave me Freestyle regulars. I tried exchanging them but due to the item being medical they would not exchange. After contacting Abbot, they sent me a replacement box of Lite strips but they won't take the old ones back. They told me to "dispose of them in the manner that I dispose of my medical waste." I'm thinking, in the garbage with everything else? The only thing I dispose of properly is my sharps. But again, because they are "medical supplies" I am to throw them out. They are in an unopened box that doesn't expire until December of next year.
"Use me, abuse me, fill me with blood and then throw me out. Just don't let me go to waste!"
If you use a regular Freestyle meter or know somebody who could use 100 free strips, please email me or comment below. I can't possibly throw them away. I have to see them go to use. I know how precious test strips are.