My Happy Bubble

I've wanted to write a post about dealing with a new endocrinologist for going on 2 weeks now. I even slithered out of my nice, cozy bed on this very rainy Saturday morning at the ungodly hour of 9 AM in order to do just that. After arming myself with some homemade chai tea and peanut butter toast (hey, a girl must be fortified for the complaining as I was getting ready to unleash), I..... got sidetracked.

For the next....five.... hours.

I was trying to (quickly) research some foodie spots for an upcoming trip to Ann Arbor my husband has promised me. A coworker had casually mentioned a deli/bakery that offered some pastry classes - it sounded of course, right up my alley.

That was the understatement of the century.

Zingerman's websites are in themselves pure magic for foodies. How in the world am I JUST NOW hearing about this place??? HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE? My day's plans of hitting the gym, cleaning, and hanging some pictures on my house's bare walls were washed away by words like "Culinary Adventure Society" and "Tuscany Food Tour".

I proceeded to read every word of each of their seven companies' websites. Basically, my trip to Ann Arbor is going to need to be extended - by several months. How else will I ever decide what cheese to buy in the creamery? Which sandwich to eat in the deli?? These are life and death situations, by god! After accepting the fact that my bank account will most likely be drained to the point we no longer have rent money, I even signed up for the mail-order catalogue. Brownie of the month club, here I come. We may be living in our Honda in an abandoned lot, but we'll have anchovy stuffed peppers and ventresca tuna. :)

All of these happy thoughts surrounded me in my own little bubble. I didn't want to think about the frustration of finding a new endocrinolgist and trying to get a referral from my PCP. I didn't want to remember the aggravation of driving an hour to said endocrinologist's office and then waiting an hour after my appointment time before being called back by a nurse. I definitely don't want to recall how I painstakingly logged months worth of blood sugars, food intake, basals and boluses and entered them into an excel spreadsheet which the endo never even glanced at. I really don't feel like brooding over the endo glancing at my Dexcom printouts and remarking, "Huh. Neat," while obviously having no idea whatsoever how to utilize them. I don't want to relive the nurse practitioner and the doctor huddling outside my door to discuss what my "diabetes plan" would be - without including ME, THE DIABETIC IN QUESTION, in said plan. Or arguing with the doctor over why I really did need to test my blood sugar 12-15 times a day. (Really, dude? You want to argue over someone taking good care of herself?) I don't want the exhaustion of restarting the whole process all over again.

I want to stay in my happy bubble with thoughts of Iberica ham and the imperfect hamburger.