share and don’t share

It’s the fourth Annual Diabetes Blog Week. Today’s topic is:

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?

Let me say first that I don’t know that I’m going to participate daily. Probably not. And I’m being all unofficial and not adding myself to the list. I’m not up to that this year.

But here goes anyway.

I think I have one of the best endocrinologists. And honestly, my current primary care doc and nurse practitioner are pretty damn good too. I’ve never had a 15 minute in and out appointment with any of them. Each of them seems to understand my struggles and none of them judge me. I always feel like they ought to be yelling at me. Perhaps I’m hard enough on myself.

Dr. G&P (the endo) always asks about how my parents are doing. He’s pleased enough with my kind of average a1c and he recognizes that I’m overwhelmed and stressed out. I’m going to go in a couple of weeks and I know my weight will be up and I’m not sure about my a1c but I’m betting it’s up a little. And he will ask how Dad is doing and listen to me when I tell him that this year has been hell so far. He does what he can, he always listens. And I never feel rushed out. I’ve tried to thank him for this and I guess he feels like it’s just the way it should be.

My primary care doctor, the first time I met him last fall, totally got it when I said my life felt like a perfect storm. He knew exactly what I meant and he listened. I go into a doctor’s office expecting the negative and he was someone I had never met. And he understood.

He’s only part time in our little clinic but I like my nurse practitioner too. She spent the better part of an hour with me at this “wellness visit” she forced me into. She listened to me when what I talked about most was the stress and guilt I feel.

And none of them, not once, when I’ve said that I keep thinking I should be able to do something different, to take care of Dad or Mom better, to fix myself – not one of them hasn’t jumped to reassure me that there’s nothing more I can do to fix them and they understand that I will do better with myself over time. None of them threatens me or makes dire predictions. I can’t imagine that they spend even a minute thinking about me when I’m not there, but when I am, I think they really care. And that is worth a lot to me.


8 thoughts on “share and don’t share”

  1. That they care when you are there and give you their attention is the most important thing. That’s what we loved about Patt’s oncologist, although she did have a zillion patients. He always felt special to her; like you said, she probably didn’t think about him/us for one moment after we left, but while we were there, she focused her energy on us.


    1. It makes a big difference, doesn’t it? I’ve seen the kind of doctor that rushes you in and out and doesn’t answer questions, etc. It’s pretty great that my whole team right now are the good kind.


  2. Wow Sweets for living in hill folk country that is extraordinary! But them be good people down in the Ozark Mountains. Is the raccoon still around?


    1. I’ve got a damn good dentist too.

      I haven’t seen Harry in a few months and I’m not sure how long they live. So, let’s look that up. It seems that life expectancy in the wild is 1.8 to 3.1 years and the first photo I took of Harry was June 2010 (and he was an adult then) so he’s already beaten the averages. I hope to see him this summer.


  3. I’m glad that you have a comfortable relationship with your health care providers. That might be as important as the actual meds that they give you. Funny how sometimes things work out in the most unexpected ways.


    1. It is. It’s funny, I used to be one of the leaders in an online diabetes support group and we always talked to people about being the captain in your health care team. So many of us don’t feel like we can talk with our medical providers and I guess I am in a lucky place right now where it all works together.


    1. I’m very lucky. I hear awful stories. My endo was apologizing for keeping me waiting (when actually they got me in before my appointment time) and I responded with how much I like him and how he encourages me and doesn’t yell. He told me that he does not respond well to people yelling at him – so he doesn’t yell either. He’s a good guy.


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