The Beginning of the End: Diabetes Mellitus

Back on December 16, 2009, I innocently went to my doctor at Patients First medical center to find out why the lymph nodes in my neck and head were swollen. The doctor was quite patient with me, but a few things got fumbled in the process. They took a blood sample, of course - doctors are the modern-day vampire. They also did a chest X-ray, which was quite clear despite my 25+ years of smoking. From that blood sample, the doctor went down a laundry list of things the lumps could be, but these essentially boiled down to three things: cancers, virus/infections, or nothing at all. He made it clear that it could be HIV, which seemed an amusing possibility given that I've been a pretty good boy for like... forever... but I let him test for it.

Now obviously, I left that night hoping for category three, but as blood results take 24 hours to return at a minimum, there was little I could do immediately. I was planning to be married on December 20th, but I diligently explained the situation to my betrothed, and we shared the worry together.

The next day at work, I got a call from a nurse at the center, informing me that it was imperative that I come back to see them immediately. Now, I work quite some distance from where I live, and where they are, so I asked him why. He explained that my blood sugar levels were more than triple what they should be, and that I was in serious danger.

I informed him of this, and that I felt fine, and I would come in that evening, but he asked me to hold a moment so he could speak with the doctor. When he returned, he was even more adamant than before: if I could not come to them, I should go to the closest ER, or even consider calling for an ambulance to take me there.

Shoving aside his lunacy, I went to see my boss, and left for the day right after lunch to return to the center. After testing my blood again, they found it even higher than before: 362, where the average level should be below 125. I asked about the other test results - namely the AIDS test, but they said they had no idea what I was talking about: somehow, the doctor had made a mistake, and they had not asked for that test.

Obviously, their current focus was now on lowering my blood sugar levels. I was officially deemed to have Diabetes Mellitus, Type 2 diabetes. I was put on medications, Glipizide and Metformin, and sent home with orders to find myself a Endocrinologist and a nutritionist.

This was a disturbing change, but it was only the beginning of the end.