It completely escaped my mind to ask Nancy the NP why I was having the liver function test.
There was another test to be scheduled, which sort of threw everything out of whack mentally. I have to get some sort of autonomic function test in two weeks. Nancy the NP explained that they've noticed some tachycardia (aka fast heartbeats) at my last couple of appointments, and they want to check it out. I think, well duh there's a fast heartbeat, I'm always nervous I'm going to hear bad news when I come in here. She also says there was a trace amount of protein in my urine test, and slightly high triglyceride levels in my last bloodwork.
I'm still waiting for the most recent lab stuff to come back. I got it done the same day as the appointment this week.
I guess this explains the hyperlipidemia business. But my heart? Oh sure, I'm a poet, I think about my heart all the time, but not in the sense that something could be wrong with it. I notice that my heart seems to speed up a bit too much after sudden bursts of activity, like climbing the stairs to my third-floor apartment. I always assumed it's because I'm out of shape.
Nancy the NP must have noticed a panic-stricken look on my face while I'm in the office. She put her hand on my arm and said, "It's not for sure that these are diabetes complications. It could be just you, your body, what you were doing at the time." She went on to say that even if I do have a problem with tachycardia, I'm already on half of the treatment for it--my daily dose of Altace. She said they would add a beta blocker to the regimen.
I think of my heart in the metaphorical sense all the time--it's full of love, of song, of longing, of loss, of joy. But now when I think of it, it's full of guilt.
Every pitter-patter instead of a steady ka-thump-ka-thump, every ache and pain in my limbs, every blood-sugar-addled moment of blurred vision (which doesn't happen often)...I can't keep from blaming myself in some way. I know I shouldn't. Sometimes these things just happen.
I couldn't believe that when I mentioned my possible heart problem to my mom over the phone, she didn't launch into some lecture, resulting in even more guilt.
I just think of Nancy the NP reassuring me that maybe it's just the way I am. I can live with that.
Michelle, the diabetes educator, helped me fine-tune some basal rates, and in a week, I'm supposed to send blood sugars. She even went so far as to call me a "such a good patient". I feel like I'm making some steps in the right direction, finally. Maybe that's why I'm not going to let this guilt weigh me down. I'm bigger than this.
Plus, last night I found an awesome job opportunity nearby. I'm going to try and write the most kickass cover letter of my life, because it sounds like the perfect job for me. Even if I can't get the job, I'm hoping there's a chance I could get an internship there, because it seems their internships are not limited to students. I could work some kind of part-time job while doing an internship, then I'd be ready for a job that I love.
I'm ready for a job that I'll love now. I'm ready for a body that I love now, and a level of control that I love now. Is it too much to ask for these things all at once?