Two weeks ago, I was in the emergency room for some severe stomach pain, down on the lower right hand side of my abdomen. After consulting with Dr. Google, I realized that it could be appendicitis. Knowing I was heading to Toronto the next afternoon, I didn’t want to take any chances with this pain. So I headed off to the ER (conveniently, the one my best friend works at) to check things out.
Looooong story made Twitter-esque short, I didn’t have appendicitis. I just had some rogue stomach pain. However, while I was at the hospital, I asked to have my A1C run. I figured I was there, they were already drawing blood, so what’s one more vial?
“Can you guys grab an A1C while you’re at it?” I asked.
“Is your diabetes under control?” asked the doctor.
“Um … define control? I wear a pump, I wear a CGM, and I’m very aware of my disease. But I’ve been having a hard time juggling things lately, on just about every level, so I’m pretty sure my A1C is crap.”
The doctor shot me a very rude, very judgmental look. I shot one back at him.
“I’m asking you to run an A1C because Read more »
*This blog post was originally published at Six Until Me.*