So I’m sitting in the waiting room of my Endocrinologist’s office waiting to complete the final hour of my 3 hour Glucose Tolerance Test.
As I sit here in the waiting room though, I watch an older generation of folks walking in and out. It strikes me that I’m probably the youngest one in here all morning. I get to thinking more on the RnY surgery, and feel optimistic, that the procedure coupled with practicing a good lifestyle, will keep me from becoming a lifetime patient of Dr. S. and regular visits to this office by way of a walker or wheelchair.
I could tell some of the Diabetic patients right away, having watched my Grandmother cope with Diabetes. They were marked by their special footwear – the footwear necessary after amputation.
I don’t want to be in the obviously ailing condition that some of these folks are in. I desperately want to be healthy!
I sometimes think… “Do I really deserve this?” “Isn’t there someone who needs this more than me?” I mean, I don’t want to be milking the system, but the resources are there, and I need help. Logically I know I do. I spent so many years trying whole-heartedly to lose weight that I deserve to have this success in my life. And now, being diagnosed “borderline” Diabetic, I want it more than ever. I’ve made so many other positive changes in my life; overcome the odds in so many ways. Weight is that one area where I just get beaten down, over, and over, and over again.
Oh yeah… about the diagnosis. My Endo put it in writing. I’m Borderline Type 2 Diabetic. Dr. S. even went so far as to put me on Glucophage. It will keep the Diabetes at bay and may even help me lose weight.
I sent an e-mail to our regional director of HR. I had to find out if in the past, since our healthcare is self-funded, if the company has been known to favor on the side of the employee’s needs, and either waive or compromise on the pre-certification requirements. I explained to her the situation, that if I have to do the 12 month supervised diet, then I run the risk of a flat-out exclusion being added to the policy, and I cannot afford this kind of surgery. She was sensitive to my issue, and promised to do some research and find out for me. I have yet to hear from her.
Ugh! 10 more minutes, then I get stuck again, and I can leave. Thank goodness.
Something totally unrelated: I lost the stone out of my engagement ring. I can’t even begin to tell you how sick that makes me. What’s worse is getting it insured was on our “list” of things to do, and never did. Gah!