Day Seven in Captivity.
Little on the down side today, thanks to having just marked one week "in" and with still two to go. What the hell is there to write about, from the mind-numbing confines of my hospital bed?
At the moment, BSparl and I are hooked up to the fetal monitoring system, and I can hear her heartbeat pumping along like a rhythmic Clydesdale and can see the movements of her little 5lb, 5oz body being tracked on the graph. It looks almost seismic, like a BSparl earthquake.
They haven't checked the protein levels in my urine in a day or two, but things appear to be holding steady. Blood pressure is climbing ever-so-slightly, but monitored constantly, and there's room for titration in my Labetalol medication (read: they can give me more of that crap). Still rockin' the heparin injections twice a day (hate) and still not sleeping through the night thanks to the monitoring. (Which I understand the necessity of, but it's not making for "relaxing bed rest." Bed rest is a misnomer. This is more like jail where the wardens grin and mean well.)
One of the hurdles I'm having a little trouble with is the diabetes management aspect of things. The Joslin team comes by once a day to review blood sugars and make suggestions, and they are the experts in all-things diabetes. However, I am the expert in all things specific to MY diabetes, so I've been working hard to achieve a tolerable blend there.
For example, one of the (very nice, very knowledgeable, mind you) endocrinologists had some commentary about a post-prandial blood sugar of 137 mg/dl that I had two days ago. In my mind, 137 mg/dl an hour after eating is downright badass, and I'm very happy with it, especially considering that the pre-meal number was 84 mg/dl. Good control, in my eyes.
"Well, this is a little high. We'd like to get this post down."
I don't mean to be rude. I try to be a good patient, a "patient" patient, and to find that careful blend I had mentioned, the one of my non-medical knowledge and their medical knowledge of diabetes. But it was 8 in the morning. And it was the third time I had been woken up by a doctor who wanted to review my goods. And I didn't agree that 137 mg/dl post-prandial was too high.
"Really? Too high? I don't see it that way. I think that's a number to aim for, especially seeing as how I leveled out to 98 mg/dl at the two hour mark. That's a respectable peak, don't you think? Otherwise, I'd be treating a low at the two hour mark."
"Yes, but it should be lower than that."
And I sort of lost my cool.
"Okay, well how about we all call the FDA and get them to tighten up their requirements for 'what's accurate' to something a little more precise than 20%, and then we can start griping about a 137. Because for all we know, that 137 mg/dl could actually have been a 110 mg/dl, and then I'm right in the acceptable range, right?"
(I am Kerri's terrible, bedrest-fueled, pregnant rage.)
They agreed that 137 was okay. And that revisiting my post-prandials after another day of review would be a good idea. And then the fleet of them shuffled out the door. I felt bad about blowing off steam, but really - I'm in no way a "perfect diabetic," but these days, I'm running really tight and carefully with my numbers. Let's remember that the reason I'm having post-prandial peaks is because - oh yeah - I have diabetes?
It's challenging, that feeling of having people take my diabetes management control away from me. Not that I have all the answers or have it all figured out, but I've been living with this a long time and my own instincts and experience should be as strongly considered as the vast medical knowledge of my new, trusted caregivers here. I'm no diabetes expert, but I'm pretty well-versed when it comes to "Kerri." ;)
Eventually, I'll find a way to balance my issues with control while "in captivity," but until then, I may need to vent here a bit. Because I'm pretty sure they're not reading me.