I have come to believe that waiting on the A1C test is a good thing for me.

My response to this diabetes scare has been one of fear and weariness. While I would proffer that such a response is certainly reasonable, especially given what I battle, it leaves so little room for the magnificent Father. He certainly can manage another disease should that be my lot. In fact, someone pointed out to me that the thyroid medicine I am on is actually because of thyroid disease. I probably will be reaching that half dozen just any day now.

Exaggeration aside, the rather cold and cruel way the neurological ophthalmologist treated me helped put two bad blood tests and one unknown in perspective. Does any of this really matter? Or is it merely another opportunity to walk by faith.

Shaking and trembling as I do. I can still walk by faith, right? Or, at least, stumble by faith...

January 21st is my appointment with a rheumatoidologist. My doctor is cutting me off the Celebrex unless I see a specialist to determine whether or not any other drug might be as effective. I asked the new doctor's nurse if it would not be better for me to be off the Celebrex for at least a day or two before I come so that the doctor can best assess my limited function and pain level. I knew she would agree. I believe I should get credit for asking the question. I am not sure, however, if I can willingly stop taking the pain pills. Just missing one of my twice-a-day dosage is enough to make me shudder. What would two days be like? How would I work?

Even though I had a major attack in her office, I could not see the pulmonologist again until the 14th. I believe she has been the best listener thus far out of the five I have tried in the area, but each time I have gone, she has been a bit dismissive of the coughing. I am crossing my fingers that she will now understand why my doctor worries so much about the cough variant asthma that wreaks havoc at times, but this small part of me wonders a bit that I will just get another passel of platitudes and focus on the darned TB I had umpteen years ago now.

I cannot bring myself to try and find another neurologist. I do think I should make an appointment with my regular doctor, but is it worth $20 just to tell her about such an utter rejection that still makes me wonder why I am seemingly not worthy of help?

I did look through the referring specialist's notes on my visit. She put down that I was having trouble shifting focus and attribuated that to my age. She didn't note at all that the reason I was so worried was that my vision was blurred ALL THE TIME to some degree or another. Yet she managed to note three times that I was "visibly" upset at my prescription and that she spent 45 minutes of her time with me. The rest was techno speak that noted painful movement, sensitiveity to light, and decreased color perception, which she attributed to optic neuritis. Oh, and, well, her sage advice that I see the very good doctor who had his nurse practically shove me out the door. SIGH.

To add insult to injury, the universe has rightened itself and B is now creaming me in Scrabble once more. She has won 7 games out of the last 9 and brought my score both plummeting into the 500s and below her own.

Today, I came home early to start washing 14 coats and a dozen scarves, hats, and gloves from our Operation Warm-Up winter clothing drive. The last load started spinning a few moments ago, which means Operation Clean-Up took 8 hours. Given that we had about 200 coats, I believe needing to clean just a fraction of them was a good ratio. The ones still at the office are sorted by gender and size now. We should have a few more come in tomorrow and then will be distributing them on Thursday. The reason I am mentioning this, besides the documentation that there is a good reason my water bill will be a bit higher come next month, is that my brother called whilst I was switching loads and he was a bit admiring of our willingness to help children in this fashion. While I was mildly surprised at his response, I did not fail to note that the call, as well as the day's labor, was another reminder of the need of perspective in my life.

I may or may not have a disease that would give rise to the disappearance of Dr Pepper in my life, but at least I am warm this winter and need not worry, at least for now, about being otherwise.

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NOTE: Reason no. 57 why I believe I do not have diabetes is that I have learned stress can make your blood sugar fluxuate wildly. I would classify my asthma attacks as stressful. Therefore, any fluxuation in my blood sugar is most likely a response to the pulmonary assaults I face on a regular basis.