Wednesday, May 7, 2008

I Got The Old ‘Goin To The Clinic Blues

A person who has diabetes might run out of insulin, chew all of their glucose tablets, and forget to refill their ’script for neuropathy medicine. But there’s one thing they will never run short of: doctor’s appointments.


There’s your general doctor, or internal medicine doc, then there’s the endocrinologist for your glands above the waist, your urologist for the glands below your waist, the nephrologist for the middle where your kidneys reside, the opthamologist to help you read the doctor bills, and even the psychologist for when all of this runs you crazy.


And I am sure I have left out several “ologists” on my list. It’s just that I am weary of every one of them. It’s not that they are particularly unkind or uncaring. It’s just that my rump is tired of sitting in their waiting room chairs for half a day, then sitting on their butcher paper covered examination tables for the rest of the day. Is there a flatbuttologist out there who takes Cigna Health Insurance.


Diabetes attacks every cell of the body. In essence, we are all shook up, even more than Jerry Lee Lewis when he had his bones shaken and brains rattled. And we didn’t even have to marry our underage first cousin to get this way. Our bodies inability to process the fuel we take, or our inability to handle sugar in a normal way, makes everything about us at peril.


I have read several studies concerning a potential cure for Type Two Diabetes. It is a surgical treatment called gastric bypass surgery. Specifically, it is the Rou-En-Y form of this surgery. There are too many documented incidents where people who have undergone this surgery have been able to either stop taking insulin and revert to oral medication, or stop all medication to handle blood sugar disorders. It is not too good to be true. It is not that good. My wife had the surgery for weight loss and she was terribly sick for the first couple of days, and had a bad case of pneumonia that kept her in the hospital for a week. And there are several restrictions you have to follow for life if you have the surgery.


I am going to go for it.


This is the first public pronouncement on the subject, and I wanted my friends who read the blog to learn about it first. I have been seeing someone….no, dammit…not that kind of seeing someone. I have been seen by a physician, and have been approved for the surgery by the entity that controls all of our health- the insurance company.


I learned today that some final paperwork is on the way to the prospective surgeon…papers he wanted to see concerning my health treatment over the past five years. This surgeon also wants to run a light down my goozle to peruse my gut, presumably to see what he is literally getting into. It is also another wonderful opportunity to run a light into one of my orifices down to the nether region of my body.


Then, I will finally have an appointment to meet the actual doctor. He will give the yea or nay as to whether he will do the deed. I assume that if he says ‘yea’ that the surgery would be performed on his time schedule. I have heard that recovery is fairly quick, and since I do little physical work (and some would say mental work, either), I would return to work soon.


This is not a decision made overnight. And it is not without fear. I heard once that courage is what someone does when they are scared spitless. I would be scared spitless, and I am hoping for copious amounts of narcotics and other potions to asuage the shakes.


But I have to do it. Diabetes is eating away at my health like corrosion on battery terminals. Insulin use is tough, and I have never been good at math. My blood sugars can be controlled with it, but it can be a bear, especially when you overdose.


Being fat has little to do with the final decision. Because if it were a case of dressing nice, I could just buy bigger clothes. And I am not as self conscious about my weight as some other folks.


I do know how it hurts to be overweight and concerned about your appearance. My wife of more than thirty years was in reasonably good health, and had her surgery for the weight loss benefit. She looks like a different person.


I have felt the not-so-good natured comments about my weight deep in my heart. On-the-job, I have paid the price for being fat. But that discrimination taught me to look a little deeper, and care a little more for how I look at others. That is a good thing. God brings lessons in many ways.


So this is not about looks. It is about getting healthy, gaining mobility, and adding years to my life. We will see if the plan for surgery goes ahead.


If so, fine…if not…well… I suppose e-Bay has plenty of fat guy clothes and as long as horses pee, I will have insulin, and as long as doctor’s kids go to college I will have doctor’s (or assistants) to treat me.


I hope it’s not too much to ask for your prayers.

Posted by Dave Foulk at 02:29:15 | Permalink | Comments (5)