I don’t know about you, but as a diabetic, my biggest pet peeve is when someone treats me as if I don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to my diabetes. August of this year will mark my 14th year as a diabetic, and over those 14 years I’ve gained an awful lot of experience with my disease. As a lot of you probably have, I took many different classes when I was initially diagnosed which taught me a myriad of topics such as learning how to count carbohydrates and manage blood sugars, what to do in case of DKA or a seizure, and how to draw-up and inject insulin doses. The classes my mom and I partook in were wonderful and full of knowledge, but there’s never a better teacher than experience, which I think by now I have had enough of. Sure, I may not have gone to medial school, and I may not have an R.N. after my name, but I know my body better than anyone else, and I feel that I should be listened to out of respect.
This soap box I’ve climbed upon isn’t completely random. As a matter of fact, it has to do with an incident that took place just last week.
If you’ve been following my blog then chances are you’ve read about my on-going battle with pancreatitis. It’s been an incredibly tough road, but I thought I was going to finally get some answers when I was referred to a clinic about 3 hours away from me. They told me they were going to perform an EUS, or an Endoscopic Ultrasound, which is basically an ultrasound that takes place from the inside. When I was first diagnosed with pancreatitis in early April, I was told that I needed the EUS to find out exactly what was going on, and my hospitalist made an appointment for me to have the procedure done. I was nervous, but the though of finally getting some answers excited me.
The day finally came around and per the doctor’s instructions, I had nothing to eat or drink after midnight, and did not take my insulin the morning of the procedure. Now, I thought it was strange that they would tell me not to take my insulin, but I trusted the doctors and I followed my instructions. My mom picked me up from my house at 4:30am, and we made the long drive to the hospital. I was put in a room, given an IV, had my vitals checked, and filled out all of my paperwork when they finally decided to check my blood sugar before going in to the procedure. That’s when my nurse came into my room and delivered news that I did not want to hear. The procedure was canceled.
Surprisingly, (sarcasm) because I wasn’t allowed to take my morning dose of insulin, my blood sugar spiked to over 600, putting me into mild DKA, and rendering them unable to perform the test. I was immediately rushed to the emergency department and given an insulin drip, as well as fluids to bring my sugar down.
What made me so angry, besides getting up at 4am and driving over 3 hours for nothing, was the fact that while at the hospital I was being treated as if I had no idea how to manage my diabetes. They were spouting off facts about blood sugars, insulin, and checking my blood sugar, and after a while it started to make my blood boil. Finally, I spoke up about the way they were treating me. (I was under the influence of heavy medication, just so you know.) One nurse came in and begin to explain (again) that if I do not take my insulin, my blood sugar would spike. I raised up from the bed, looked her straight in the eyes and said, “Honey, I’ve been a diabetic since I was 10 years old, I could write the book on this stuff!” Lucky for me, that finally got her off of my back.
After a few bags of fluids and several doses of insulin, my blood sugar finally went back down to normal and I was released. My test was reschedule and took place just a few days ago without incident. This time I was allowed to take my morning insulin dose, and my blood sugar stayed perfectly controlled the entire time. Hmm. Who knew.
– Jessica.
Adventures in Diabetic Land 