Just Another Emergency Room Visit

The only time I’ve ever been admitted to a hospital was when I was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes back in 2009. In the 22 years before then (besides being born), I’d never had any reason to visit a hospital. I’d never had a broken bone, an allergic reaction, or injuries sustained from sports (except for the one time I caught a softball with my bare hand or when I crashed into a teammate while trying to catch a ball in the outfield – she went to the hospital with a concussion; I iced my jammed thumb on the bench).

But upon reading one of the recent Narrative Matters essay from Health Affairs about a doctor’s perception of the emergency department as a patient, I was reminded of the two times I visited the emergency room due to diabetes and how I hope I will never have to return.

I used to date someone who worked in one of the many emergency departments in Cincinnati. I have a brief understanding of the chaos and stress the staff undergoes on a daily basis. I feel for them and have no complaints about how I was treated the two times I had a seizure as a result of hypoglycemia and was sent to the emergency room via ambulance.

But from a patient’s point of view, it was one of the most lonely and degrading experiences of my life, so much so that after my second seizure when the doctor wanted to admit me for further testing, I disagreed and persuaded him to discharge me. Besides the occasional vertigo, I didn’t sustain any injuries from the seizures, but that doesn’t mean I made the right decision. Continue reading

Rising Health Care Costs: The T1D Label

I’m nervous about the future of health care in this country, especially for type 1 diabetics like myself. I was diagnosed almost five years ago at the age of 22. I have no family history, and there was no evidence of an autoimmune attack so the doctors do not know why my pancreas just stopped making insulin. But it did.

Many researchers point to a combination of genetic susceptibility and environmental triggers. With the amount of chemicals plaguing our food and our household products, that’s not so surprising. But then why, among my two brothers and a mother and father, was I the only one that contracted diabetes? When I was diagnosed, my parents were surprised, mostly because out of everyone in our family, I was the only one who made a daily, concerted effort to eat right and exercise. What was it for?

This is a question I no longer ask, and I am thankful I have employer-sponsored health insurance that will cover the cost of my expensive disease. But when it comes to health care, I am one of “those” who potentially costs the system. I fall into the “high-risk pool.” From an evolutionary perspective, I should have been weeded out of the population five years ago. But here I am.

Even though I am no longer considered “young and healthy,” I still consider myself “young and healthy.” I manage my diabetes well with an insulin pump. I maintain an A1C of 5.6 (average blood sugar readings over the last 90 days). My average daily blood sugar readings range from 70 to 160. I still have bad days, and if I had a continuous glucose monitoring (CGM) system, I’m sure it would show a higher range, but when you have to survive on animal insulin injections and carb estimations, how much do people really expect you to get it perfect?

I’m thankful for the insurance I have, which allows me to afford my insulin pump supplies, my test strips and insulin doses. There was a time when I didn’t have coverage, when I had to pay for my “life source” out-of-pocket, and suffered the consequences (financial and physical). I’ve endured a health insurance roller coaster in the past four years. Continue reading