Diabetes and Shoes
Last Tuesday, I made the oh-so-fun trip to downtown Baltimore for my appointment with Dr. S. This was the first time I’d seen him in his native environment; I’d always had my appointments at a satellite office.
When I finally found his office (in a large Baltimore hospital), I signed in and waited. And waited. It seemed like I was waiting forever, but it was probably just twenty minutes or so. I am very impatient. At last, his office door opened, he peeked his head out, found me, and gestured me inside.
At this point, “normal Shannon” disappears. The thing is, Dr. S. intimidates me. Not in a “you’re scary/mean/ultra smart” kind of way. No, my problem is that he’s just so cute. CUTE! So, like any immature girl, I get all tongue-tied around him and say really stupid things. Or nothing at all. I forget simple words like “ointment;” thank God for the “low blood sugar” excuse – I pull that one out of the deck frequently. Then, there’s the blushing. I’m Irish, and I have very fair, freckled skin. I blush often, but not in a pretty way. I turn tomato red.
So, here’s what happened on Tuesday. Dr. S. went over my labs (good!) and took me back into an exam room for the usual once over. He did the thyroid feel, heartbeat check, lung-deep-breathing thing (why do they make you hyperventilate?). With each touch, I’m turning redder. He even wonders if I’m having some sort of allergic reaction (hives). Ummm, no, I’m just a silly girl. But, then comes the foot exam.
I like shoes. I like pretty shoes, with high heels, and don’t even get me started on boots. I spend a lot of money on shoes (my recent acquisition of the most amazing pair of Manolo boots is epic!). I forgot the point of this because I’m thinking about shoes. Damn!
Anyway, I’m lying back on the exam table when Dr. S. lifts up my foot (clad in the aforementioned Manolo boots). He attempts to pull my boot off himself (OMG!). I tell him that they zip up so I’ll have to do it. He made some innocuous comment about my propensity for “nice shoes,” and the blushing starts anew. So, I finally get the boot off, as well as my trouser sock (sort of fish-netty), and we both look at my other foot.
“Do you need me to take both off?” I ask.
“Um, yeah. Don’t I always?” He responds.
“You’re so high maintenance!” I respond. I have no idea where that came from, but (thankfully) he laughed.
So, with my boots off, he checks the pulse on my feet (very good), and does the sensation test (also very good). He declares my feet to be in excellent condition, but comments on the indentation that the seam of my trouser sock is causing in my toes (obviously caused by my pointy-toed boots). He’s a little concerned, and tells me that it could be a problem.
“If you tell me that I have to wear ugly shoes, *we’re* gonna have a problem.”
Laughing, he tells me that if I had any sort of neuropathy, he’d have to pull the plug on my shoe obsession. However, since my feet are fine, I’m spared a sentence of “ugly shoes.”
As if I needed more incentive to stay healthy. Dr. S. is one smart endo. Did I mention how cute he is?!?
A1c, Confessions, Endo, Random
Themocracy
Glad the visit went well, I’ve often said the world goes ’round on shoes, jewelry & handbags! And I ain’t wearin’ no ugly shoes, either, hon!
Have a good one, ttyl
All is have to say to that is, “Shan…you crack me up!”
Did you really buy a pair of Manolo B’s???
Yep. I bought them a little while ago. Super-cute leather ankle boots that zip up the front!
So what was your A1C?
Had mine done today and it was 7.4 I was PISSED. I went from 6.0 to 6.5 to 7.4, in 9 months. Cancer related? I think so, and so does my endo. Blah.
My last A1c was 6.5. I’ll have another done next month.