This Phase is Coming to an End...

Yesterday was a very difficult day.  I chose not to blog because I was in a very dark and emotional place.  I had been fasting since dinner the night before.  I got up and got to the doctor's office just fine.  I was very anxious about the test. When they took me back, there were 3 nurses.  The one that put the IV thingy in my arm was from a different part of the clinic and was being cross-trained.  She didn't get it in very good.  every time they had to take blood, they had to wiggle the little tub thingy around, move where my arm was, etc.  It wasn't pleasant.  They took blood many many times while I was there.  2 times before the food, then 2 tubs every 30 minutes for 300 minutes.  A different nurse finally had to put another IV thingy in the other arm because they just couldn't get any more out of the first one.  Fun fun fun!

My mixed meal test was interesting.  I had 10 minutes to eat one cup of oatmeal, one cup of unsweetened applesauce, and one cup of whole milk.  I added about half the milk to the oatmeal because I really don't like milk.  I tried drinking some of it and it just wasn't a pretty sight.  I actually finished most of the applesauce, most of the plain oatmeal, and maybe a third of the milk.  Within the next 45 minutes I was feeling pretty bad - headache, couldn't focus my vision, dizzy.  I had them do a finger prick.  It was 137, so I was having those symptoms because it was going up.  OK.  After a while I was feeling pretty decent.  Then I started feeling sleepy, light-headed, heavy.  I had them do a finger prick again --- 74.  This was a couple hours into this.  I was so frustrated.  Why wasn't it getting lower?  Why was my body not showing what happens to me on a day to day basis. My sister went back to the hotel to get some work done.  Another finger-prick --- 72.  Feeling tired, frustrated, lost.  All of this money and time spent to come across the country for an answer, and the doctor would look at this test and tell me I'm just not eating right.  Devastation.  Guilt.  Fear that no one would believe me and they would think it is all in my mind.  Why oh why was this happening?  I got to the end, they did a final finger prick --- 70.  Even though I was feeling low, I was not officially low.  I would have had to drop into the 60s for it to be official.

I went back to the hotel, ate something, and went to sleep for a while.  I woke up and I had dropped to 67.  Stupid stupid stupid body.  I went to the lobby with my phone.  I ate cheesecake and drank a latte.  I cried.  I downloaded apps to use the messenger.  I could call my family at home because I wouldn't be able to talk because of crying.  I sent my kids, my parents, and some very good friends messages using one of the great new apps I downloaded so they knew that I loved them -- even in the darkness that surrounded me.  One of the ladies I had chatted with the morning before stopped to make sure I was ok.  God was looking out for me.  I got some dinner.  Went back to the room and ate.  I started feeling better.  More like myself.  I wrote out some things to talk to the doctor about.  I got input from my hubby, my mom, and my sister.  I put it all aside and started crocheting a granny square for my son's blanket.  My sister and I talked and laughed.  I didn't sleep well, but that was ok.

I got up this morning and once again tried to eat ALL of the carbs and protein the nutritionist suggested.  Nope.  Didn't happen.  I re-wrote my questions for the doctor in a notebook and left room for what she wanted me to do.  I felt good about the going to the appointment, but I was still very anxious.  It was time to go.  With notebook in hand, I was prepared.  She came into the room, and she was very pleased with my test results.  I let her know that my body doesn't always react the same way to the same food, and that I have days that I stay in the low 70s/high 60s no matter what I eat.  Stress and activity plays a big roll in my blood sugar dropping.  I told her I can't eat as much food as the nutritionist recommended.  So here is the plan:

* I will start on Acarbose (a prescription med that I tried twice before).  In 3 weeks I will titrate up to a higher dose.  Then again in another 3 weeks.  And so on until I either reach a dose that helps me or I get to the highest dose and it just doesn't help.
* I will contact the nutritionist I saw here via the portal for suggestions since I cannot fit that much food in my little pouch.
* I will start walking in the mornings before I eat since my blood sugar doesn't drop prior to eating.
* I will start correcting when I get below 70 instead of 75 so my body will get used to feeling that low and knowing it's ok.
* I will go back to the endo in NC for her to monitor my progress.  If, after all of this, my blood sugar continues to drop, the doc in NC will contact the doc at Mayo to revisit the surgery option or get advice on other possibilities.

It wasn't exactly what I was hoping.  I feel good about having the plan in place, though.  Ultimately, it would be great not to have to have another surgery, especially since it is so risky.  I guess the part that I don't like it that it could be another 6 months of monkeying around.  Or longer.  Then again, we might find the magic combo of that med and carb intake.

My sister and I leave tomorrow morning to go to CA.  I will be staying with my parents for a little while before returning home.  On to the next phase of my journey....