A wild, painful, revealing weekend and week

That nasty blood blister was the beginning of a whole slew of changes that are happening and going to happen in my life as of this week.

First of all, on Saturday I spent the day miserable, alternating fever and chills all day long and taking naps while still trying to be a mom. Not a good thing. That night, as I took a much needed and helpful shower, the unmentionable blood blister broke, squeezing the bloody fluid upwards and bursting out between my first and second toes. From then on out, that foot looked awful. The second toe swelled and got red. I did what I could (with the Girl's stalwart help) to dress it and keep it dry, but it was nasty. Fortunately, the fever broke Sunday morning around three, so I had a fairly normal day with the family celebrating Boy #1's birthday (we bought him a new bike). Monday, I stayed off my feet, watching that toe get redder and redder.

Tuesday was the kicker though. I went for my follow-up visit and ended up seeing my regular PCP, who told me a surgeon had to get involved. First it was going to be a regular surgeon, then an orthopedic surgeon, then finally they sent me to a vascular surgeon. Hubby was taken by surprise by this. The plan was for him to take me to the doctor's, take me home, then go to work. Didn't happen that way, but the word "possible surgery" whispered in his supervisor's ear did the trick.

So we rushed across town and to the surgeon's office, only to be told that I would be seen first patient after lunch. We ended up eating lunch there, and when we got back, I didn't even see the surgeon that my PCP said I would.

He took one look at my feet and asked, "How long have you been diabetic?" Now, this is a question that has been asked of me over and over again: are you diabetic? I've always said "No" because my blood work, even from a three-hour glucose tolerance test told me I wasn't. So I explained this and he said, "Well, I am telling you now, you are diabetic. 60% of our patients who are diabetic have feet just like yours." He then went on to explain that the bones in the diabetic foot shift into a characteristic pattern, and that mine have done so. I was stunned, to say the least. But I had suspected something of the sort for a bit, partially because that sore spot was taking so long to heal and because of a sudden shift in my eyesight as well.

He cut away the dead skin, cleaned up the callouses, had his nurse dress the wound. Things look much, much better now, and if we ever get the "whipped water" that we're supposed to use on the wound, it should heal fairly quickly. He did say that I have good blood flow to my feet, and that's in my favor. I'm still on the antibiotic, and off my feet, propping my right foot up as much as possible. And I've been prescribed "diabetic shoes" and inserts. Went to the prosthetic maker to have molds of my feet made in order to create the inserts, which are the key ingredient. I'll pick them up in four weeks.

But biggest of all has been the shock of someone finally telling me flat out, "You're diabetic." It means so much of my lifestyle has to change, in particular, my eating habits. I have to get back to my PCP and talk to her about those changes and begin to live life without a lot of the things that, up until now, have made life sweet, in more ways than one. It's hard to see it as a positive thing right now because I'm looking at it in terms of what I have to give up instead of what  I have to gain. I know someday I will come to terms with it and embrace it, but that time isn't here yet. I'll let you know when  the epiphany strikes.