Today I went to the doctor for the first time in months and really, the second time in years. I was forced into making an appointment after a co-worker scared me half to death about diabetes. Yes, my feet have lost some feeling. Yes, my blood sugar tends to drop around 11 or so in the morning. Yes, grandparents on both sides of the family had Type 2 diabetes.
But am I ready for that? Nope. Am I ready for MS, which my mom diagnosed me with on Saturday causing me to think that I was going to have to go find Mark Fuerstein and profess my undying love? Nope. So I went to the doctor with the hopes that she would say, “It is those damn shoes.”
And, drumroll please, she did. “If you don’t mind your feet being numb, keep wearing high heels everyday. Just know you’ll probably get bunions and need foot surgery. And this? This is the early stages of arthritis.”
So while I’m not going to be a spinster with diabetes, I am going to be a spinster with ugly shoes and arthritic big toes. And numb feet. She did a test with a wooden q-tip. She broke it in have, to make a sharp end, then I closed my eyes and had to tell her if she was poking me with the q-tip or the splinter. I couldn’t tell the difference anywhere near my big toe and up my arch. Towards my little toe it got better, but there are a few serious nerve issues in my tooties.
Just be prepared–my next hot date, I’ll be wearing clogs or something responsible. Not my beloved Franco Sartos or Kenneth Coles. Sorry boys, my doc says no.
Oh, yeah. My blood sugar was 58 without fasting, so that is a little on the low side. Tomorrow I get a fasting blood test for cholesterol, blood sugar, and thyroid stuff.
