I made it back to my desk and checked, always trying to rule out some crazy diabetes issue. Nope, 178, that was just fine 2 hours after my breakfast. I finally admitted to my co-worker that something was not right. Fast forward 20 minutes, and I was in my co-workers car, on the way to the hospital.
My husband met me there and we got checked in. Eventually they confirmed what we had suspected. I had an ovarian cyst rupture. I had one a few years ago, but I don’t remember it hurting so much. I figured out that the only place to place my pump was on the neck of my gown, at least then everyone would know I had diabetes.
2 blood draws (neither of which had an A1c in there, I asked) 4 ultra sounds, an attempted IV and one shot of morphine later, they said there wasn’t much they could do. I was feeling better by that point and just wanted to go home. No problem.
My husband was the one that pointed out that not once the entire 7 hours we were in the ER did anyone ask or perform a blood sugar check on me. Not once. It’s not like I was hiding anything, my pump was on the front of my gown. I was astounded. I had heard that in hospital care of diabetes is shotty at best (sorry, to be punny). But this really amazed me.
I guess it’s true that you are your own health advocate, and have to know what is best for you. (And if you don’t / can’t hopefully you have a supportive friend/parent/spouse that can step in.) I did in fact need a correction as my blood sugar creped up. I checked to see what the morphine was doing, and if I needed to eat anything before they took me for the ultra sound.
3 nuggets that I picked up on in the ER.
- My am my own best doctor when it comes to my diabetes.
- My husband will try and tip anyone (I thought he was crazy tipping the Christmas tree guy, but when he was worried if he had to tip the orderly that took me to the ultrasound suite, I knew we had a problem)
- The flu. Yes, I ended up being sicker from going to the hospital than I was before I went.
(Feeling much better now, thanks.)