The Bad Doctor

I recently saw my internist for my annual physical, and while I was there he reviewed a printed copy of my lab work.  Those labs included my A1c, an estimate of my average blood sugar over the past 2-3 months.  Here’s a summary of that conversation, along with my inner monologue as it progressed:

Doc, looking at my A1c:  “You’re not diabetic!”

Me:  “I wish, but with Type 1 that’s not going to happen.”  (Is he joking?  He has to be joking.)

Doc:  “Do you take medication?”

Me:  “Um…just the insulins.”  (Oh crap, he’s not joking.)

Doc:  “Do you get that from me or an endocrinologist?”

Me:  “My endocrinologist.”  (I need a new doctor.)

This really happened, with a doctor associated with one of the highest rated hospitals in the country.  I realize he’s not a specialist and isn’t going to know all of the minute details about T1 vs. T2.  That’s exactly why I don’t see him for my Type 1.  However…he’s a doctor and should at a minimum know there are two different types of diabetes and that no matter how low my average is I’m still diabetic because there is no cure.

By the end of the appointment he was referring to me almost as a diagnosis code, calling me “diabetic type 1.”  I’m not sure what the exact problem was.  Does he not know what Type 1 is?  Does he think it’s really just “juvenile diabetes?”  Maybe he thinks I’m actually Type 2?  He did tell me my A1c is impossible for a T1, which is obviously incorrect.  Regardless, this is the last year I’ll be using this doctor.  Next year I’ll move on and hopefully I have better luck with the next contestant.  If not I’ll keep trying until I do!

This has nothing to do with T1, it's my sister's beautiful doodle challenging me to get a good picture of her last weekend.  She'd rather lick my face than cooperate.