Turkey Basal Rates! (giggle @ Kerri.)

Happy Thanksgiving, blogosphere!

I had 3 kinds of sugar-free pie, and probably more carbs than I could count. I'll be correcting until bedtime, but right now, I'm enjoying the company of others more than worrying about what goes in my belly. Next week, it'll be back to the gym--which seems odd for me to say, but I mean it this year. Whee!

Special note to d-bloggers: my mom-in-law made a chocolate peanut butter pie recipe from the DLife website! I think her fiance is leaving now, so I might get a chance to follow up on his low blood sugar situations. Should be interesting.

Tonight I get to see my "little brother", Tom. We grew up together, and we've been friends since he was 4 and I was 5. Sure, we had our rough times, but he was the best man at my wedding, and we've always kept in touch. Can't wait to hear what's new with him, and meet his new girlfriend.

All right, more coffee will be in order if I'm to last throughout the evening. I'll try my best to squeeze in another update tomorrow. It's weird to think that NaBloPoMo won't be going on for much longer. If I can make it through the holiday, I can definitely finish out the month.

Happy Turkeys to all, and to all a good night!

Unknown Bonus of Moving!

Apparently, in Blue Bell, your home comes with a free cat to protect your closet.

That's Sadako. Technically, she's Nigel's, but she's cute and fuzzy, so we all love her.

Not much time to post. Too much to do before driving off to Williamsport for the weekend. Some frustrations today, but I might have to mention those tomorrow.

Everybody have a Happy Thanksgiving, no matter where you are!

Clothes Horse.

So, I was unsure what to talk about today, since I was lazy and don't really have any adventures or weird health bits to discuss. Sooo...here's a confession.

I LOVE makeover shows. And, well, not all of them, but I definitely used to be obsessed with Queer Eye for the Straight Guy and now I'm crazy about What Not to Wear.

I like shopping, and I'm not sure where I got that from, because Lord knows my parents both hate it, and I don't think any of my other relatives are keen on it either. I enjoy it, as frustrating as it can be sometimes. As a plus-size lady who is shaped in what seems to be an odd manner, that is, bigger on top than on the bottom, I have issues finding clothes sometimes. Part of this could just be that women's clothing makers are insane. I swear.

How come men get to walk into a US store and their clothes are sized on inches, so they're uniform? I can buy a size 16 in pants at Old Navy, yet I have a pair of shorts from Fashion Bug that are a 20. Generally I come in around an 18 or so. Shirt sizes are bigger, and really annoying. For example, I used to buy all my t-shirts at Target, but they changed their sizing ranges. So what used to be a 22/24 and perfect is now a 20/22 and small. Thanks, jerks.

So I need to find a dress for this Christmas party that's coming up. I was eyeing the dress above today on Torrid.com. I have some others I've seen around that I hope will work out. I might be buying some stuff this weekend. I'm a shopper, and not sure how or why, but it makes me happy most days.

And really, I'm into fashion in general. I don't have to be wearing the best designers or super-trendy, and sometimes I don't give a crap what I look like, but generally, I want to look nice. And websites that snark about it are fun. Admit it.

I like Go Fug Yourself, and you probably will too if you enjoy looking at the "Worst Dressed List" of any Hollywood event.

For the plus-sized gals out there, my friend CJ pointed me in the direction of Manolo for the Big Girl, which is a blog all about plus-sized fashion stuff.

And a place I could likely do a ton of holiday shopping this year is Etsy.com, which is like a super-cool internet craft extravaganza. Everything you can buy on the site is handmade. For example, my friend Ciara makes some really fun Domo-Kun cat toys. (And if you don't know why this makes a hilarious cat toy, you should click this, please.)

And of course, all lovers of fashion, and reality shows about it, should rejoice, as the new season of Project Runway started tonight. I, of course, missed it, but I'm sure it could be on again at midnight or something, or some odd time that I'm watching TV tomorrow. Oh, Tim Gunn, I wonder if it's possible that you are my inner motivational speaker (to swipe a phrase from Kerri)...when things go wrong, I hear you saying, slightly disappointed yet still encouraging, "Make it work."

Just like I made this blog entry work. Stay fabulous, dear readers.

World Diabetes Day

It's something we live with, and we are fortunate enough to be able to do so. People are still dying from diabetes in many parts of the world simply because they cannot afford and/or do not have access to the medical care they need.

Sure, we complain about our insurance, but face it, we are lucky people.

Kudos to the UN for bringing about these efforts. Let's hope they continue far into the future.

In all honesty, I like the blue circle symbol, and if I were to put a magnet on my car, a circle would be way cooler than a ribbon. Anybody know if anyone has made this happen?

*****
Completely unrelated sidenote: any Sitemeter users out there? I think I either need to close my account and start over, or get a new counter for the blog. I've had comments like crazy all week, and yet my Sitemeter report says I've had only one visitor for the week. Lies! All lies! Opinions, my blog friends?

Poetic License

At the request of the lovely Amylia, I think I'll post a poem today. I've been to 3 different National Poetry Slams, and I've been on 2 teams. What's a poetry slam? What's the National Poetry Slam? I suggest you check here and here, and your questions will be answered.

I write a lot of what are considered performance-oriented pieces. Sometimes I feel my poems are just artfully arranged slices of my life, thought out a little abstractly. However, this thing is just completely silly, which is why I like it so much. I think I am also posting it for George's benefit, since he was the creator of a t-shirt that informed the masses that diabetes "sUx0rZ".

(WARNING TO POETRY PURISTS...if you're expecting "Leaves of Grass" or something like it, you might want to go elsewhere.)

Super-1337 Internet Love Poem

OMG

LOLZ

I think U R hawt

H-A-W-T

Colon, right-facing parenthese. : )

Colon, left-facing parenthese, : (

U R makin’ me sad

U say U won’t go out w/me.

That’s what I get checkin’ name and face

Instead of “martial status”

All up on MySpace.

OMG

LOLZ

U R so sweet

Be my less-than-three! <3

I saw your profile on SuicideGirls

(That’s SG)

Baby, you had me at:

“Hi, my name is Drone.

I’m 5’3” and my interests include

Tats, piercings, black hair dye, black eyeliner,

The music of The Smiths, The Cure and Joy Division,

And my exposed ribcage.

My astrological sign? Hmmm…

Definitely Cancer.

And the weirdest place I’ve ever done it is

IN MY DIRTY ASS!!”

OMG

LOLZ

U roXorZ my Box0rZ

O can’t U C?

That I am t e h suck

And U R t e h rawk

And I am t e h crap

And U R t e h 1337

And I am just the dial-up to your cable modem

And I am the spelling of the word “the” as t-e-h

And U R the complete and utter bastardization of

Proper English and grammar

Via the internet.

ROFL

LMAO

!!111

OMG

LOLZ

U R t e h hawtness!

Plz IM me.

******

Hope you had fun reading it. I certainly enjoy performing it. Meanwhile, it's lunchtime here in Blue Bell. Think I'll go heat up some soup. Maybe more poems to follow this week.

Happy D-Blog Day!

When I think about how it was well over a year ago that I discovered the Diabetes OC, it's still surprising. Sometimes it's surprising to me that I took the initiative to start a blog at all.

But yet, isn't this how we all felt? I think, if you ask collectively among the diabetes blog community, that we had some kind of mini-epiphany reading the blogs of others. Our misunderstood, difficult-to-manage, unpredictable, frustrating illness was something that was just as misunderstood, difficult-to-manage, unpredictable and frustrating to others. It was like a support group without the lame introductions.

Reading D-Blogs has been a reminder for me that times can get tough, but we can make it through them. That when in doubt, you should test. That most of all, no matter what kind of crap diabetes tries to bring into your life, you should live life just as vibrantly and fully as if it wasn't a problem.

Now that doesn't mean that you should go on some kind of cupcake binge, but if by some chance you DO go on that cupcake binge, make sure you correct for it, and try not to beat yourself up over it. Temptation happens, and sometimes it's easier to give in than to pretend that you're perfectly happy snacking on some veggies when what you really want is a freakin' chocolate chip cookie.

Keeping a diabetes blog makes me feel more responsible for myself. Even if I don't write down my numbers as often as I should, chronicling my life with diabetes keeps me in check of my symptoms, keeps me sane when it seems my ankles will never stop swelling or when Symlin drops my blood sugars like a big-ass rock.

If I don't read someone else's diabetes blog in the course of a day, I feel a little lost. They are my inspiration. They are my sanity. They are ridiculous sometimes, and they make me laugh at stuff that other people might not necessarily understand. (Which reminds me, it's still definitely Time to Change the Lancet around here!) Most of all, I keep up with the lives of my new friends.

If you have commented on my blog ever, thank you. If you read my blog and don't comment, thank you as well--at least you're looking, and I hope you find what you're looking for.

Maybe you sent me an infusion set inserter in a pinch. Maybe you sent me some awesome buttons. Maybe you're just "biased and inflammatory". Maybe you have cute cats, or perhaps cute kids. Maybe you're a ninja!

We're all in this together. Happy D-Blog Day to all my hard-typin', blog-rollin', wit-slingin' diabetes-writin' friends, wherever you are.

I don't care who throws the party when they come up with a cure, but I'll be sure to bring enough cupcakes for everyone.

Happy Birthday, Nigel.

Nigel says, while playing a round of Project Gotham Racing 4: "Gah, stop it with the endos! I don't wanna endo anymore, I just wanna...gooo!" He means:


But of course, I'm thinking of:

Well, sort of. You know, my endo[crinologist] is typically a lot less Doogie Houser. The giant stuffed needle just killed me though.

Happy b-day to my roomie.

And in case you were wondering, he completed his race successfully. Thank God he can't have a Ducati in real life...but I hope he doesn't get any ideas.

Just 5 more! And other numbers.

5 more posts, and I reach 100 posts. What? I don't believe it.

190 = number post-workout today.

1 = number of workouts so far this week, but I plan on 2 more.

140 = number post-workout today.

2 = number of pills taken today thus far, as well as the number of Symlin shots today thus far.

6 = number of recruiters who have called me in regards to my resume.

0 = number of calls I've returned thus far. Having worked in the recruiting industry before, I know not all of these people are going to have the job I'm looking for, let alone ACTUALLY have a job at all. Sometimes they have a job that might be coming up, but it never goes through. Some people are just calling me because I have administrative experience, so they're actually looking for a secretary or an admin assistant, which, in general business definitions, I am NOT. Sure, I can type letters and correspondence, and I can learn just about anything I need to do, but I know very little about Excel, databases, or making travel arrangements. I'm keeping tabs on who calls me and where they're from, then I check out their companies online and make a decision. I'll have some calls to make tomorrow.

0 = also, the number of minutes I have left to keep typing this entry. Matt is tapping his foot, waiting for me to go change clothes so we can go to his co-worker's house for dinner. It's a cooking party, everybody is making something at this person's house. It's a Mediterranean theme dinner, and Matt signed us on to make spinach pie. I have NO experience with phyllo dough or fresh spinach. This should be an adventure. My husband is hoping I'll go change clothes now so we can leave. I guess I'll be nice to him. :)

A Job Interview, Produce, and a Fancy Dress

I had a job interview today at 2pm, if you hadn't already read that yesterday. I think the whole thing went pretty well. The company is a family-owned place with a casual dress code, so I could wear jeans every day. Every aspect of my job that I discussed with my interviewers sounded exciting, honestly, and I think that's the most you can hope for at an interview. Sure, some of it might be tedious in nature, but it sounded like the kind of tedious work that I kind of like doing. Some of it sounded like an immense challenge, but one that I really wanted to try.

I sent them a nice thank-you email and a list of references. Now it's time for that crappy part of the job interview process--the waiting. Ugh.

On the way home, I stopped at the DeKalb Produce Market and picked up some fruit, some banana chips, and some trail mix-y stuff. Yummy. I will be heading back there ASAP, because all of the produce there was at LEAST $.20 cheaper per pound than at the grocery store, and everything looked really nice. If you have a local produce market near you, I'd suggest checking it out. Someday I will stop at the Kitty Cottage, right next to the produce market, because the kitties there need adopting. And, well, I won't adopt any because Sadako would not take kindly to competition, but maybe they need help writing brochures or newsletters, and that would be awesome. All the cat-petting benefits, none of the other-cat-freaking-out hassles. Meow.

We got a postcard in the mail today inviting us to Matt's company's Holiday Gala. Dinner and dancing! Most importantly, I get to buy a fancy new dress. Matt tells me he learned at work that it was only a few years ago that the event STOPPED being black tie formal! Now it's just semi-formal, something that will require a nice party dress. The party is December 8th, so it's time to start looking for dresses now. Any online recommendations as to where I can find a fabulous dress (in a size 22 or 24, most likely) would be welcomed. I'm already eyeing up a couple places like Lane Bryant and Macys. And of course, I'll need shoes. Can I just say how thrilled I am that flats are still all the rage? My swollen ankles are thanking me already. I'll be searching for the sparkliest thing possible.

Maybe tomorrow I'll have something more interesting to talk about. Maybe not. This is the fun of blogging every day in November!

Nom nom nom.

Yes, I am cooking tonight.

No, that's not a scary thing. In fact, the dish I'm making is really easy. It's my mom's one-skillet-chicken-alfredo thing. Basically, you sauté some chicken, then throw in some broccoli to steam, add mostly-cooked pasta, then dump on some alfredo sauce and simmer so all the flavors can blend. Serve. Enjoy. Leftovers make a good lunch, hot or cold. Mmmm.

However, our kitchen is still half-boxed up, and things out there are a wreck, so this will be a short post while I go do some dishes and thaw the chicken. The sun's just setting, and the sky is cotton candy pink.

Oh, and I have a job interview tomorrow. I'm not going to say more about it than that right now. I feel hopeful, but it's my first one in ages, so I'm also nervous. I have a nice outfit planned, though! It's this shirt, with black dress pants and black shoes. I think it will say, "I'm professional, but not stuck in my ways."
In the meantime, if you need me, I'll be scrubbing a big ol' pan in the kitchen.

Return to the Land of Tax-Free Shopping

It's Sunday. I am typing this entry from the basement computer lab of the Spencer Laboratory, the engineering building at the University of Delaware. Matt is upstairs showing the doctoral student he was working with how to run the actuators on the robot. Something like that. Matt built a specific mechanism for his thesis project, and apparently nobody else could figure out how to use it.

So we road-tripped down here. I went shopping in downtown Newark (pronouned noo-ARK, as in "an ark that is brand new", and not noo-urk, like in New Jersey) and ended up with 4 books, a cd, and 3 magazines. The 4 books and a CD only cost me $20! Thank you used book/record store!

I definitely miss Delaware, my many friends who live here, the tax-free shopping and late-night liquor stores where you can buy beer AND wine AND liquor all in the same place. I also love our new home. As with any move, I just want to take all the good things from the old place and transport them to the new. At least we aren't far away.

After Matt finishes his lab business, we'll head over to our old place and pick up a couple of things we left behind (extra-long ethernet cables, oops), throw out any food that's still in the fridge, and check on the mail. Only one more rent payment to make on the place, then hopefully we'll be done throwing our money around more than necessary...um, after we clean the carpets and putty the holes in the walls. Please, apartment gods, help us get our security deposit back.

And I will try to silence the worries that the whole place smells like catbox. However, Nigel never brought the thing to Pennsylvania, so I assume it's still in the living room, unscooped. I hate to spend cash for a new litter box that we won't need, but I have a feeling that old one is destined to become trash.

This has been your Sunday update. Time to scour the job boards for a while.

Sofa King.

That, my friends, is a name of a store around the corner. Sofa King Furniture. Don't say it too fast, or it's the R-Rated Furniture store. Or maybe it's only PG-13 if you say it once? It's located next to a place called the Impact! Thrift Store, which is also hilarious because the word "impact" in the logo is actually done in Impact FONT. So, Thrift Store, which came first, the store name or the font name?

It's been a furniture-filled Saturday. We rented a truck and headed to New Jersey to pick up our dining room table from my uncle's old place. We also got the other items we had saved for ourselves...a pantry cabinet, a shelf my grandfather made a few years back, and a sideboard of sorts for the dining room. We also claimed the wooden bench that had been on the front porch. Our side porch is kind of spare on seating at the moment. We can at least start looking civilized.

I have started closing our blinds at the new place. We still have a lot of junk, and a lot of stuff still in boxes, so I don't want our neighbors looking in and thinking terrible things. Our next-door-neighbor seems okay. He brought me up to speed on some things the local homeowners' association gets picky about, and of course, these our things our landlord hadn't mentioned. So, no putting out the trash before 9pm the night before collection day. We might have to have our cars registered, and we might need to weed the flower beds out front. Hopefully our landlord will just take care of this FOR us, because they probably should have in the first place.

We'll also be replacing our locks, since the only functioning keys we have operate only the deadbolt on the front door. We have one other key that operates the 2 doorknob locks and the deadbolt on the back door, but I've had 2 different sets of copies made at 2 different stores, and neither of the sets of copies works on the other 3 locks. This screams REPLACEMENT! But we think we'll just buy some new locks and send the landlord a receipt and an explanation. Hopefully she'll knock a few bucks off of next month's rent.

Time to move the furniture in! Hope your weekends are going well. Look for yet another post tomorrow! I'm out of control!

Cookie Police: We Won't Share, Because We Care

My best friend CJ will have a conniption because she says I never write about her, and here is her name, already mentioned at the beginning of this post. Bwa ha ha! Anyway, if you happen to see her lurking about, give her a wave. She emailed me, so here's a quote:

"I'm definitely enjoying Dorkabetic--I'm learning all kinds of information that would have been useful to me back in the day when I was the Cookie Police (for example, thank God you never had an episode like Dan had, because I would have had NO IDEA what the hell to do with you.) Maybe that's something you should mention in your blogging at some point--you touched on it with the Halloween thing, but how much info should a diabetic kid's friends have? Should you be carrying around some kind of laminated instruction card? "If Convulsing, Please Insert Frosting"?"

For the record, CJ, I spent most days wearing a Medic Alert necklace, and lots of people actually DO carry around laminated instruction cards with emergency info and what to do! Maybe I should carry one, but I think I'd want to jazz it up. "ATTENTION: If Hannah is acting like a drunken crazy person on PCP, please check her blood sugar...it's probably lower than low. If she's passed out, check her blood sugar, there's probably something wrong. And for God's sakes, call 911!"

If you're out there reading this, how much did you tell your friends when you were younger? How much do you tell them now? What do your kids tell their friends?

When I was in middle school, CJ moved into my neighborhood. We were already in a bunch of stuff together at school, so then we pretty much became staples in each others' lives. When I met CJ, I was probably eleven or so, so that means I'd already had diabetes for three years. I was pretty good at handling things myself, and things were a lot different back then. My doctor had me checking my blood sugars before meals, and maybe an extra here and there, but that was it. I was doing food exchanges, not counting carbs. If I went to hang out at CJ's house, it was after dinner, when I was already full of a balanced meal and enough insulin to cover it.

All of my friends' parents knew I had diabetes. I can't remember if they just found out or if my mom told them. That's never something I really worried about. I think I just wanted to avoid being known as [CJ]'s diabetic friend. One of my friend's mothers remarked once how she liked it when I came over for dinner, because then everyone would have to eat their vegetables. I think I rolled my eyes.

I'd think it would be good for a kid's friends to know what to do in an emergency. I've never been one to trend toward a lot of low blood sugars, but I am pretty sure there are times I was out with someone when I was young, and I'd feel weird so I'd just drink the Junior Juice box I had stashed in my purse or eat some LifeSavers out of my backpack. Problems typically never snuck up on me. I knew about them going into most situations.

I'm an easy-going person. I've never been one to use my disease as an excuse for anything. I know some people who attempted to define themselves by what was wrong with them, and I knew that wasn't for me. I can think of one person in college who always had some malady to explain what her problems were--her grades were only average because of her ADD, and she could yell at anyone she wanted before her period because she had PMDD--she was sick, which meant she didn't have to follow standard social procedure. Ugh. Dealing with my diabetes was something I did on a personal level, and I tried not to let it get in the way of how anybody saw me.

But I never went to diabetes camp. I didn't really know any special tricks. I did what my doctor told me, as reiterated by my mother, but eventually, I just felt like I wanted to be normal. I didn't want to worry about the Cookie Police. Then it was that I didn't want to worry about doing 8474839 finger sticks a day. Then it was, "Well, if I miss one Humalog injection, so what?"

I read this article by Kerri in the DiaTribe newsletter (you might have to subscribe to read it, but it's free!) and I saw something of myself there in high school and college. One day, it just kind of dawned on me that I could do so much better, and I'd feel a lot less miserable if I could just start being healthy. And that's where I am now--struggling to accept the changes I'm making for the better. Trying to change the little things.

And every once in a while, I wish the Cookie Police would drop by. But only once in a while, and it would most certainly help if they come bearing some other snack, like jar of mixed nuts or some fruity dip (which, believe it or not, contains no actual fruit).

So, CJ, I think I did the best that I could. Your parents bought sugar-free ice cream when I'd come over for dinner, and our infamous White Trash Nights were about the salty snacks and diet Dr. Pepper anyway.

Gluca-GONE.

It's Move-In Day, Day 2. I am trying to rub the sleep from my eyes. Matt and I were snuggled up in bed all night, happy to finally be here, and now we are just waking up, discussing plans for the day. Unpack? At least a thing or two. Lunch? Double T Diner, down the street. Moving truck? Take it back sometime tonight.

We are joking about something or other, wondering when Nigel's work shift might end, when Matt's cell phone rings. It's his mom. My mother-in-law, Janet, is notorious for practically yelling into her cell phone, so I could hear most of the conversation she was having with Matt. She asked how the move went, the usual questions, then she said, "Well, actually what I was calling about was more of a question for Hannah." Then she started asking him something, and Matt said to her, "I'll just put you on speakerphone." So he did.

She then recounted to us what had happened to her the night before. She was out camping with her fiancé, Dan, who has diabetes. Now, I don't know many more details about his D situation. I don't know if it's type 1 or 2, but I do know he takes Novolog and Lantus, because I've seen pens of both in Janet's fridge. They had gone home to watch the Penn State game, then returned to their campsite in the RV. After being back at the campsite, Dan had an extremely low blood sugar and went into convulsions.

Janet said he was unable to swallow, and she didn't have any kind of liquidy-type sugar that she could just put under his tongue, so she was chewing up glucose tabs and rubbing that on the inside of his lips! Then, she ran out of glucose tabs and had to go get some chocolate from a neighboring RV. Dan's son was with them, and she gave him a cell phone to call 911, but since they were all out in the boonies, reception wasn't an easy thing to get. She told him to just keep walking until he got reception. I think it took half an hour to 40 minutes for the paramedics to arrive!

She said he at least wasn't convulsing and was more responsive by the time help arrived and gave him some glucagon.

Janet also mentions this isn't the first time this has happened.

I wanted to jump up and yell, "Oh my GOD, why doesn't this man own a glucagon kit of his own?!! Don't you know how important that is?" But I knew that wasn't the answer. She'd need to be convinced more gently, and maybe at a different time. We talked about how she or Dan could carry fast-acting glucose gel or liquid, or even a tube of CakeMate icing would work in a pinch. That's what they always told my Mom to carry for emergencies when I was little. I could have lectured Janet on how important it is to have and know how to use a glucagon kit, because what if the chocolate wasn't working or what if the paramedics would have arrived in an hour instead of half an hour?

But it was what she said next that made me remember not everyone is educated about their significant other's/spouse's/family member's diabetes. She essentially said, "Well, his doctor said Dan's A1c was pretty good at his last appointment, so why would he keep having these blood sugar problems?" I went on to explain that A1c, for the most part, is a number that averages you glucose levels over a period of time. They could all be normal, or they could be just the right mix of highs, lows, and normals to get the magic number.

If Dan's glucose reading was 235 before dinner, but then 25 while he was having convulsions less than two hours later, maybe he took too much insulin. Overcorrected, or didn't count his carbs right. Maybe his insulin ratios are just wrong.

"There are so many reasons why his blood sugars could be up, then down," I told Janet. I notice Matt is smiling at me, obviously proud of how well I could discuss these matters. Janet mentions what Dan's doctor said about the A1c again. It dawns on me. "Is Dan's doc an endocrinologist or a specialist, or is this just his general practitioner?"

I find it's Dan's primary care doctor. He doesn't see an endocrinologist, an internist, or a diabetes educator.

I tell Janet that maybe they need to talk about getting him to a specialist. He needs to see someone who is more skilled at analyzing ALL of Dan's numbers, so incidents like this can be better prevented.

It must have been scary for Janet. I'm sure if anybody has any pointers that I can pass on to my mother-in-law, she'd be appreciative. I haven't heard any more on the situation since we first moved in, but I've been hoping we can catch up about it soon.

The thing that I find the most odd is that even his regular doctor didn't know to prescribe a glucagon kit in case of emergency! I've had primary care doctors refuse to write me a script for test strips or insulin because they knew I was seeing an endocrinologist, but I'd think if I only had one doctor, they should know what's best for me in all situations!

That, in itself, is a kind of unsettling thought.