You'd think that after dozens and dozens of hospital visits, I'd know my way around the University of Iowa Hospitals & Clinics fairly well. Unfortunately, you and I both thought wrong. The U of I hospital is forever changing, renovating, rebuilding, enlarging, expanding, and striving to become the best maze it can be. Also, when changing insurance coverages, I've been assigned to different sections of the hospital. I'm beginning to think that the entire hospital is devoted to diabetic care, and it just depends on insurance coverage as to where you get your checkup done.
There's the pediatric section with all the toys and friendly staff where I went for years as a kid.
There's the Diabetic Care section with all the super incredible machines that take a drop of blood and tell you how much TV you've been watching.
Then there's Primary Care North where all the cheapo's like me go for
I found a parking spot in Ramp 4 on the 3rd story, thinking, "Is there really this many sick people, or did they all drive five cars?" I then immediately realized I was in the ramp on the entire opposite end of clinic that I needed to be. Under normal circumstances, I'd have hopped right back in my car and motored over to the other side. But these were not normal circumstances. These were hungry-from-fasting-and-15-minutes-late circumstances.
Common Sense: Get your buns back in that car and drive to the correct spot, young man.
Brain: Foooooooooooood Nah, I can probably make it on foot. Fooooooooooood.
Is anyone else alarmed that you can find more floor plans for Kinnick Stadium than you can for the HOSPITAL? This handy map shows me how to find my tiny seat in section 101, row 52, seat C, but now where are the maps to help me find Primary Care North?
One does not park in Ramp 4 (visible only as a "P" in the top right corner) when one's diabetic clinic meeting is on the second story of section A. Hospitals seem a lot larger when you have to get from one end to the other in a hurry.
I do love the University Hospital because it's very advanced and the staff are extremely helpful and friendly. I also love that their massive elevator system is categorized by alphabet for easy understanding.
I got to my clinic and signed in, afraid that I've missed my tiny clinic slot that was planned 4 months in advance. The receptionist showed no alarm, as if people coming in twenty minutes late was perfectly normal. I sat down in the waiting room and opened Illusion, an incredible, edge-of-the-seat novel I'm reading by Frank Peretti, and a nurse came to get me WAY FASTER than I was ready for. Normally, when the nearest acceptable reading material is 15 blocks away, I sit in the waiting room for half an hour. This time I was in there for only 5 minutes. My hungry, tired brain decided that either I should always have a fantastic book on my person, or I should just show up to diabetic clinics late more often.
The nurse took my vitals and discovered that I had mysteriously lost 5 lbs. I'm so unaware of what I weigh, I didn't even notice. The last time I weighed myself was at the prior clinic visit, and I couldn't remember how much I weighed. I DID notice that she wrote me down as 6'0", which is preposterous because I'm actually 6'1 3/4". She took my blood pressure, after removing a pressure cuff that was too large for my arm. Either the last patient was Dwayne Johnson, or they just have a lot more flab on their biceps than I do.
I truly love my doctor, Dr. Ismail. He's brilliant in general, incredibly knowledgeable about diabetes, has a fantastic memory for little details, and he's just plain funny.
"How's your dad? How's the family business doing?"
It's going well, thanks. Dad's doing great.
"Do you have a girlfriend yet? I think I asked you this 4 months ago, no?"
Yep, you did. I'm working on it, Dr. Ismael. Just for you. :)
"Haha, just for me! Well don't you worry son. So how are you feeling?"
Great! *eyeing sign that declares ALL DIABETICS MUST REMOVE SOCKS AND SHOES FOR FOOT CHECKS* Do I have to remove my shoes?
"Do you have ulcers on your feet?"
No.
"Then no. Are you still taking 25 units of Lantus?"
No, I'm taking 29. But that's unchanged since last time, when you prescribed 29 units.
"I did? Oh yes I did. Very good. Have you intentionally gained or lost weight?"
Nope.
"Hmm, it appears that you've lost 5 lbs. That's common in diabetics that don't take their insulin."
I've been taking my insulin! Most of the time. Sometimes I forget at snacks.
"Let me take a look at your blood sugar meter. Hmm...these numbers are fairly high. I'm afraid your A1c is going to be 8."
Oops. I was at 7.6 last time, wasn't I?
"Yes, but I fear it'll be in the upper 8's. We shall see. We may have to change your regimen."
A nurse came in to take two large vials of blood, one for my A1c (pronounced Ayy-Won-Cee) test, and one for my cholesterol, which is the reason I fasted. The nurse also gave me a pneumonia vaccine. It was "strongly recommended" since some recent study proved that diabetics are 30% more likely to die after contracting pneumonia. Who am I to argue with science?
Well, my arm still burns from the pneumonia vaccine so I'm fairly determined it'll be the last one I ever take. My arm always burns after vaccines since the injection site is ALWAYS my shoulder muscle. The nurse took one look at my shoulder and said, "Umm, this will probably hurt." Like a Florida weather forecaster, she was right.
I suspect the 5 lbs I lost were all from my left shoulder, because this vaccine hurt more than all the others in my dim recollection. I usually do pretty well with vaccines. At the last clinic, I got the flu shot and stayed remarkably healthy during the flu season in which my siblings and friends dropped like little fevered flies all around me. I normally catch what everyone else has, due to my utter lack of mysophobia.
Vaccines are a touchy subject in my family right now. My mom and sister Shannon are definitively against them, while Shelley is for them. I'm somewhere in the uninformed middle saying, "Whelp, shoot me up. I haven't died yet, hyuk hyuk." I made the mistake of whining about my sore arm to Mom and she let me know how foolish I was for getting a vaccine. I could have become a leper, for goodness sakes! This coming from the woman that loaded me up with vaccines as a baby, and look how I turned out!
Okay, now I'm definitely not going to get any more vaccines.
I was released from the clinic as the blood work was being sent in for diagnosis. My body always behaves, but now it seemed to be rallying a mutiny. Reports of A1c getting out of line, pneumonia bandits on the horizon, and somehow 5 lbs walked the plank. I signed out at the reception desk and scheduled the next visit.
I stopped in at the Pharmacy to pick up some prescriptions.
Pharmacist: Several of these prescriptions need to be renewed by your doctor.
Shawn: But he just renewed them. I just met with him.
Pharmacist: Oh, I see them here now. We'll start filling those out right away.
Shawn: Okay, thanks. How long will that take?
Pharmacist: 45 minutes.
I read a couple of chapters of Illusion, picked up my prescriptions, and hiked the 2.9 miles to my car. Not really 2.9 miles, but hospitals seem a lot larger when you're in a hurry OR when you're carrying paperwork, a lunchbox/man-purse, a dirty winter coat, and a giant paper bag full of prescriptions. In hindsight, I probably looked like some kind of homeless druggie. "Look at that poor unfortunate man. He probably has 18 diseases from living in a parking ramp, and those must be all the prescriptions he has to take to keep from dying. Or massacring humankind."
I went back to work, and was busily helping Stan hang some duct when Dr. Ismail called.
"Hello, Shawn. I have your results back from the lab. Your cholesterol is great. It's very good. Your A1c is 7.5, and that is also good. The last time you were at 7.5 was May of 2011. So well done, keep everything the same. Just do what you're doing. Okay goodbye."
So, this visit was no different than the last three, where he sits me down and scares me half to death about poor diabetic control but then calls back with great news about how well I've been doing. He's a good cop AND a bad cop at the same time.
I'll print this out and award it to my doctor at the next clinic appointment.
This clinic visit went well, as do all the others. God placed me in the precise spot, 20 minutes from an incredible hospital, where He knew I'd be blessed. The hospital took great care of me when I was a child, so I was never able to foster fear and loathing for hospitals like most kids do. Excluding scary Dr. Hoffman, I've had wonderful doctors that care about my personal medical needs. But I really don't want to turn into another Asa.
"In the thirty-ninth year of his reign Asa was diseased in his feet, and his disease became severe. Yet even in his disease he did not seek the Lord, but sought help from physicians." -II Chronicles 16:12, ESV
SPOILER ALERT: Asa died.
Some people assert that the disease in Asa's feet was ulcers, a complication stemming from diabetes.
Lord, please help me to recognize the difference between the blessing of doctors and a dependence on them. Let me always look to You first for wisdom, counsel, and healing.
Great post! I loved this peek into the medical world portion of your life...and as for vaccs....I'm still on the fence. I give them to my children, but I don't know if I'll ever feel super confidant about it. They're just so scary!
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