Yesterday I had my wonderful annual health exam. Not a real fan of these appointments, but then again what woman is? It's a very important exam, I get that, and I go every year without fail, but if a guy had to go through what we do, there would be tears for sure.
My doctor is a woman, and she's awesome. When I was in labor with Sophia, she was so calm and in in control, I was at complete ease (except for those lovely labor pains that feel like an alien is about to burst out of you). When Sophia decided 5 minutes before being pushed out that her heart should start beating irregularly, my doctor turned into a super hero. The room went from cozy maternity to a full blown scene from a t.v. drama. Oxygen mask on, bed rails up, and all hands on deck. I'm pretty sure an alarm started going off in the halls, code "get the hell out of the way". I didn't have time to process what was going on, but I do know I'm sure they broke some records running down the maternity halls with me to the OR. Sophia was delivered safe and sound.
My blood pressure remained perfect.
Madeline's entrance into the world wasn't as dramatic, but diabetes made up for that.
Diabetes takes a huge toll on me physically and mentally. Some days I can feel the stress running through my veins. My brain never shuts off, and if it does, the alarm next to my bed reminds it to wake up. I have not had a full nights sleep in 2 and half years. Interesting, I don't know if I could sleep a full 8 hours anymore. I can only imagine what my poor body is going through.
But as of yesterday, my blood pressure remains perfect.
Uh-may-zing.
I wonder if I should laugh when I hear my doctor say: "just keep doing whatever it is you're doing".
I really don't want to.
.
