Phone call this morning: “Mrs. Hultquist? Could you please come in this afternoon to speak with Dr. A? She’d like to talk with you regarding your last set of series.”
I don’t want to.
Getting a call the very same day you’re wanted to go in…”for a chat”…?!
Me: “Fine, but I want to talk to her about my back issues.”
Shit, if I’m going in for the gloom and doom, I want some damn help with the almost-two-years-since post-lumbar ruptures riDONKulous pain I still have.
So, I went.
I got a high-fiver from the reception clerks for the weight dropped.
And it turns out?
Ya…apparently this is a reaaaaaaaaaaaally slow time at the office and my doctor thought it would be STELLAR to have some extra time to chat about what she coined as, “Blood work changes that totally baffled me. What, exactly, is it that you’re doing?”
Well, here it is…in a nutshell:
I don’t need a mutha’ freakin’ kidney biopsy. THAT’s what!
Did the damage that Mr. Asshat Lupus just up itself and get better?
No, no, that’s not what that means. However, what it DOES mean is that what it is that I’m doing? It’s halted the damage. Status quo. No movement of numbers.
After three years of “holy shit please don’t let me die” kind of goings on…to say this is a relief is…overwhelming short of an accurate articulation of my joy.
That was the first part of the conversation.
Second part got even better.
My A1C has dropped a full percentage and is now just shy over the “normal”…OF A NON-DIABETIC.
I clinically do not need prescription Metformin in order to manage my diabetes.
I just made diabetes my bitch.
1,095 pills per year I no longer require to manage the inadequacies that my asshat pancreas and liver possess.
Because I owned my shit and got my I’ve-earned-this-ass to the gym, started training, overhauled my entire nutritional system AND took the time to attend diabetes education information sessions run (free!!) by the City of Ottawa and put that information together with the information I’d been learning in my clinical anatomy portion of my herbalism program and…*takes a breath*…
Well, the rest is in the numbers.
I had a choice.
Your friendly, neighbourhood Canadian Chronic Badass…got it right.
I also received a referral to an orthopedic someone-or-other for my spine, currently also snafu’d with the osteoarthritis (as per the last MRI). Not a surgeon, though. Some kind of specialist. *shrug* I also am getting referred back to the Canadian Back Institute. Sounds fancy, but it’s really just a specialized physiotherapy center. I was there after my car accident several years ago. They make you OWN your shit, I can tell you that. Looking forward to it.
Kind of. *shifty eyes*
Just before we wrapped up after talking shoes (I was wearing my Alegrias…great for lower lumbar issues!)…I’d noticed a small, purple smiley face sticker on the tag of my file.
I’d asked the clerk about it on my way out.
She looked at me slyly…“It’s kind of a system to remind her of patients who can…how do I say it…”
“Own their shit?”
I walked out.
Smiling like that little, purple sticker. 😉