It Ain't Cancer - Part 3

I saw my doc yesterday and we had a pretty good conversation. When I had gone in for my physical my blood pressure was up a bit, but yesterday it was back to normal – 120 over 80. Almost textbook perfect.

I asked the nurse for a copy of my lab results from the previous test as I still didn’t know what my readings were for glucose, etc. She got me a copy of them and I had plenty of time to review them before the doc came in. It was not a good sign.

For starters, they had run an A1C test. I didn’t know they ran that one, and I was going to request it. An A1C test is a measurement of your hemoglobin and it’s relation to blood sugar (glucose). It’s not a direct measurement of your glucose but of your bloods ability to carry glucose. A normal reading is less than 5.7. Anything between 5.7 and 6.4 is increased risk of diabetes and anything over 7 is diabetes. Mine was 11.4!!!!

Also, my glucose level was 213 – it’s supposed to be under 105. And, they had found glucose in my urine. There isn’t supposed to be any in your urine.

The doc was real nice, but the bottom line is that even with a severe infection it shouldn’t elevate your glucose numbers to that extent and the A1C test wouldn’t have been affected by it. I still asked for another round of tests just to be sure, and prior to starting treatment. The doc agreed, but unless there is some bizarre fluke it certainly looks like I have diabetes.

So….the good news. The doc said I’m not as bad off as it seems, though I will need to start treatment as soon as the next round of tests are confirmed. As he put it, he has fat-bastards coming in with glucose levels well above 300 or 400. He said he even had guy that ran marathons that developed diabetes. That guy got lucky because he came in because he was urinating all the time (sign of diabetes). They tested his glucose level and it was almost 700!! He had a race to run in a week. Doc said if he had ran the race he probably would have died due to dehydration. Lucky guy.

The doc also thinks I am producing insulin – which means that my cell receptors are probably having problems. This is controllable via oral medication, diet and exercise. Unless my body is unresponsive to all the types of oral medication I shouldn’t have to take insulin. At least I don’t have to lose 200lbs or something and the doc is putting me in his handful of “skinny diabetics” category. I wouldn’t say I am skinny, but I’m not huge – I weighed in at 153.4lbs fully dressed @ 5’6”.

So what does all that mean? Well, it means I am going to have to watch my diet, exercise, take pills, and get stuck by needles every 3~6 mos. for the rest of my life. As long as I respond positively to the medication it shouldn’t be that bad.

As for diet - I don’t eat huge gluttonous meals too often, but I will have to curb starches and carbohydrates a little bit, which will be a bit difficult for me since I love pasta, rice, Asian and Italian foods, etc. I’ll have to stop eating chips for a snack and switch over to low-fat popcorn. I eat popcorn as a snack, but now I’ll have to eat more of it. Less on the fruit, more on the veggies, and anything with fiber is good. The Dr. Pepper is going to be really hard for me, though. I don’t drink coffee, but I like my morning DP to get me going. I need to try diet again, but I’ve never liked diet drinks – can’t stand the artificial sweeteners, but maybe I’ll grow to like one of them. And I can still have a drink with my friends, but I can’t get hammered.

It’s still a bit frightening because diabetes increases your risk for heart disease and other cardiovascular issues as well as an increased risk for all kinds of other health problems. Fortunately, and again, if you can get it under control those risks all drop to the same levels as people without the disease. Right now, I am in the paranoid stage (and perhaps still shock and denial) and every minor feeling of numbness or twitching muscle puts me on edge (all signs of nerve damage, or no problem at all!).

It also profoundly reminds me of my mortality. I never liked the idea of taking pills or medication to fix things. I always see “old” people as people having to take a bunch of pills every day, and that in itself can be problematic. Some people get to taking so many pills they actually cause more problems that they fix. Despite trying to take care of myself and staying in some semblance of shape I get to join that club.
It makes me wonder, though, if even 50 years ago a lot of people probably died from complications related to diabetes, but were often diagnosed with something else.

Right now, the first step is to confirm the diagnosis and then get things under control. We’ll see what happens after that.

It Ain't Cancer - Part 2

I’ve been doing a lot of research on diabetes. Last weekend, I relaxed a bit and did some more research on the internet. I discovered a few things that I thought were pretty important:

First, I learned that that elevated glucose levels were typically a sign of infection. I read multiple articles indicating that events such as stress, infection, and dental problems in particular will cause you to have elevated glucose levels. I also read there was some correlation of antibiotics and glucose levels, but since you typically are fighting an infection it is not unusual to be on antibiotics. In other words, there may be some correlation, but it isn’t a direct correlation. Well, I had just started treatment for an abscess (dental AND infection). I also had just had a root canal and was pretty stressed out about the whole ordeal (I hate dentists). Even after my tooth broke almost a week after my physical the x-rays showed that the abscess was almost gone, which means I still had it to some extent.

I also read up on things that cause elevated liver enzymes. While it’s true that diabetes and other problems cause elevated liver enzymes so does acetaminophen, ibuprofen, and narcotics. I was taking all three, including triple doses of ibuprofen within 24-48 hours of the test. I still couldn’t find out how long it takes your body to recover and expel all of that from your system, but I would suspect that 48 hours would be the starting point.

And everything I have read up on testing for diabetes indicates you need to have at least two tests with similar results before confirming a diagnosis. I only had one, and now I seriously question the validity of that particular test. I know I said it earlier, but I am now even more convinced that the test needs to be re-done as well as some additional testing, such as the A1C test (thanks mom!).

None of this means that I don’t have diabetes, but it does mean that we (the doc and I) need to re-evaluate the diagnosis before moving forward.

It Ain’t Cancer

Today, just after getting all the news about having to have surgery to fix my tooth I get call from my doc. I had a physical last week along with some lab work. They called to tell me I had diabetes and that I needed to come in and discuss treatment. It’s hard to explain exactly how I felt then as I was pretty much in shock and my mind was blank. I can’t say I’m doing much better now, either.

I’m going to ask that the test be re-done. I find it hard to believe that my diet and / or lifestyle directly led to it, but it’s entirely possible that I was predisposed to it due to genetics. Since I am adopted, I’ll never know for sure. I also think that the stress of having all the dental work done as well as the cocktail of drugs I have been on may have had some effect, though I could be mistaken.

I feel like I am being kicked in the teeth.

MF Tooth Fairy! Part 1

Right before the July 4th holiday weekend I was in Oakland, CA working on a project for an ice cream manufacturer. Not a bad gig as the weather is pretty nice in Oakland. It stays within five degrees of seventy more days out of the year than all but about one or two other cities in the U.S. So while it was a sweltering 100+ back in Texas, I was enjoying the “heat wave” of 70’s to 80’s.

Right before I came home I had a pretty severe pain in my upper teeth. It wasn’t any one tooth in particular and nothing I did seemed to make it any worse or better. It hurt pretty bad at the time, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. When I woke up the next morning it was gone. I finished up my gig and flew home. My pain returned once, but it never lasted very long. Heading into the holiday weekend it continued to happen more frequently and more intensely. I was pretty much screwed since it was the weekend and a holiday weekend at that. By Sunday it was hurting all the time and by Monday (the 4th) it was hurting so bad that I bummed some pain killers from a friend of mine just to get me through – it was either that or go to the ER as I was in so much pain I couldn’t concentrate anymore. After the drugs kicked in, it took the edge off but I wasn’t in that good of shape. The pain had also localized to one tooth in particular – my left maxillary lateral incisor, also affectionately known as #10.

I got a list of “in network” dentists from the insurance company and my g/f was kind enough to call them and find one that could work me in on Tuesday with very short notice. I appreciated that as I was apparently whacked out on hydrocodone and not functioning very well – she said I was listing to the side as I came back to bed and I wasn’t making a whole lot of sense. Even though I said I would get up and call the dentist she took it upon herself to do so.

The dentist took some x-rays and politely told me I was screwed. I had an abscess that was just forming up in my skull. My #10 had apparently suffered too much trauma at some point – probably after having a crown put on it years ago – and died. When the tooth dies it ceases to maintain good blood flow and an infection had somehow gotten in there and started having a party. He gave me a prescription for pain killers and antibiotics. He was dead on the money when he said the antibiotics would make me feel better after they kicked in due to getting rid of the infection. I immediately started a cocktail of lortab, a triple dose of ibuprofen, and antibiotics. I think I heard my liver scream somewhere in the background.

I called the endodontist and setup an appointment for a root canal the very next day. Now, I’ve heard all kinds of horror stories about root canals so I wasn’t too pleased with this, but an abscess can actually enter your brain through your sinus cavities and kill you so I wasn’t going to dick around with it.

I know a lot of people hate going to the dentist, but I gotta tell you that there is a good chance I’ve had more dental work done than a lot of people. I have gotten to where I really, really, really don’t like dentist and someone poking around in my choppers. I was pretty nervous going in to get the root canal but they were super nice and other than getting shot with anesthetic it wasn’t too bad. He gave me a little topical anesthetic, which doesn’t really do shit except make you think it won’t quite hurt as bad. Then they pry your jaws open and come at you with the syringe. As they are shooting the anesthetic in you, you can really feel it start to hurt. Not fun and it was hurting more and more as he kept putting more in. Then he says he wants to get the other side and that “it might pinch a bit.” Oh really? “You mean worse than that?” I asked him sarcastically. He didn’t get it and asked if I was ready. Um, yeah…let’s get it over with.

After he numbed me up they put some kind of funky tooth condom over the tooth to keep blood and saliva out of the area while they operated. They also stuck a piece of rubber in between my teeth to hold my jaw open at an angle I couldn’t otherwise naturally achieve. Between the two, I couldn’t have been more comfortable.

Once all the prep work was done it went pretty fast – maybe 20 minutes? It was a little odd to have them sticking tools up in my head and pulling out tissue (nerves) and wiping them off on a little napkin in front of me. But once it was all over I came home, took some more pain meds and crashed out for a bit.

Upon waking up I really wasn’t in any real pain, but I was a tad sore. I stopped the pain killers, but kept taking the ibuprofen through the next day. They had packed some medicine up in the now hollow root canal and told me to come back in two weeks to get it taken out.

Well, today, almost a week to the day, I was eating lunch and my tooth broke off at the gum-line. It didn’t hurt, but it was a bit uncomfortable. I didn’t bite into anything, it just broke off. I stopped eating just in case there was a chance of me getting food or something up in there, but it was a bit strange.

This photo shows my tooth - at least the part of it that broke off. The outer-most part is actually a crown. The darker interior part is what is left of my original tooth, which apparently died. The very white middle part is the medicine that they packed in during the root canal.



My dentist got me in right away and again took an x-ray and told me I was screwed, but worse this time. Because the tooth broke off so close to the bone they said they couldn’t get a post or another crown on it. I was supposed to fly out of town tomorrow, but I had to re-schedule so the lab could get my temporary to me. That way, I can go out of town on a gig for work with something covering the hole in my gums and teeth. I’ll also use it later on when I have to wait for the implant to heal. Oh yes. Implant. That’s right – they are going to cut me open to remove what is left of my tooth and then put a titanium implant in my skull. If I am lucky, my bone will be in good shape after they pull the tooth and they can put the implant in right away. If I am not lucky (which at this point I am leaning towards not gambling) they will have to do a bone graft, let it heal, then cut me open again to put the implant in. After all that, I get to have post sticking out of my gums for about 3 months while it all heals up, and then they can put a crown on it.

And it’s not cheap. Total cost? About $5,000 of which I’ll be out of pocket about $3,000. My insurance isn’t that bad, but all of this is maxing it out for the year and they don’t cover the temporary tooth at all. Keep in mind that my insurance already paid for a root canal, a dental visit, and a bunch of x-rays and drugs and all that. I guess I am lucky as I could be out a lot more and while I am very unhappy about the turn of events I keep telling myself “it ain’t cancer.”

But still….why couldn’t I just have a cavity?

Do you have kids?

I often get a mixture of responses when I tell people that “yes, I am 40 and I don’t have any kids” (that I know about).

The most common response by someone that has kids is bewilderment, as if they can’t fathom the concept of *not* having kids, or why anyone in their right mind wouldn’t have children. I’m not sure if it’s because they are envious or if they really just don’t understand the concept of not being a breeder.

Which brings me to the second most common response – again by those who have kids – envy. You can see that glassy eyed look in their eye. They are thinking about all the times that they couldn’t go out and do something because they had kids. They are thinking about the 1976 Les Paul that their five-year-old destroyed. They are thinking about what they could really do with that money that is going towards a college education for someone that tells them to fuck off every day.

Occasionally I get the high-five by someone that either never wanted kids, either, or by someone who has kids, but never really wanted them. They did it because they weren’t very lucky (i.e. read responsible), or because it was the right thing to do if you wanted to be “normal” in society. You know, 2.5 kids, a white picket fence and mini-van (hey man, soccer moms / MILFS are hot!).

And the last response I get is one of understanding that while that person may not agree with my lifestyle they recognize that people are different.

But no, I just never wanted them. I don’t hate kids. In fact, I often have a blast when I go play with all my other friends’ kids. We get into trouble and we have fun. And after I get them really wound up, I go home and have a beer. I’m a selfish bastard – I have my toys and my time. If I want to go out, I go out. I don’t worry about having a babysitter and I don’t worry that my guitars are sitting out.

I once heard that you know you are ready for kids when you don’t feel like going out anymore. I’m not there yet, and don’t think I’ll ever be.