H'Ween A1C
Image description: an assortment of jack o’ lanterns on the stoops and staircases of centretown, ottawa.
I set the alarm for 6 am. We have breakfast: mine is oats and quinoa with strawberries, a splash of milk, unsweetened shredded coconut, walnuts, strawberries, an egg, ceylon cinnamon, ground coriander and ground ginger. In other words, my favourite breakfast. I drink 3 large glasses of water. At 6:45am, I put on my clothes. I make sure I have the requisition for my bloodwork and I head out the door. It’s an unusually balmy October 31, which means I can wear a light hoodie instead of a coat.
At the corner of Percy and Nepean, two rabbits wish to lead me down a rabbit hole, but I resist. I have a goal: get to the Kent Street Dynacare Lab before it opens at 7:30am so I can get my bloodwork done before the line up is too long.
This is a trip I take every three months to check my blood sugar levels aka Hemoglobin A1C. It measures the amount of glucose in the liver over a three month period. My initial A1C was 9.5 back in March 2022, enough to make my doctor believe I would need meds. By August, thanks to a well-behaved pancreas, a change in diet and an increase in physical activity, it came down to 5.9 which is non-diabetic level and now it ranges between 5.4 and 5.8 mostly, so it’s good. As long as I keep doing what I’m doing, my doctor believes I won’t have any diabetes complications until possibly my 80s.
So every three months, I take the walk, about 15 minutes to the lab. You can read about an earlier walk here. This morning I walked up Percy in the dark of the end of October, before the time change, falling back to standard time, end of saving daylight. No one is around. I get spooked by my own shadow in the street lamps, my reflection on a for sale sign on a nearby building. I walk through Dundonald Park. There are a few folks lying on benches, covered in blankets, and another group of people already awake and clustered together talking. A few dogwalkers and me. The dog walkers are talking into their phones and have earbuds or headphones on. They do not talk to their dogs, which makes me think of the lyrics and tune of a song I want to write: when you walk your dog/talk to your dog. tell him about your day…
MacLaren has its share of h’ween decorations. I enjoy the various jack o lanterns and skeletons and spider webs, wonder if the kids trick or treat around there.
I jaywalk the red light at Maclaren and Kent, no one is around. I can see into the lobby where the lab is and people are already lining up in there. I want to get there quickly. Dynacare has a net check in app, but i find it difficult to use: it is flaky and goes from 90 minute wait to 10 minutes to waiting period closed within minutes. I would rather get there 15 minutes to half an hour before the lab opens and wait. This is the most efficient lab I know of and the closest. The next one is a half-hour walk to U of Ottawa’s campus and the next requires a bus ride to Billings Bridge, money I don’t want to spend.
At first I am the only one with a mask on, but soon another couple of folks come in wearing masks and we chat. There are about 10 of us now at 7:15am. A clerk comes out to take our requisition forms and OHIP cards. A woman with anemia is from Quebec and has to pay $300 for her blood test since she is out of province. We talk about bell bottom pants and thrift store clothes. I see my name on the screen. I am #6.
Inside the lab waiting area, I get one of the coveted chairs. More people have arrived, about 20 more. They give their cell phone numbers and go back outside to wait for a text from the lab at the ten minute wait mark. I chat with the technician as she takes my blood. I’m out of there by 7:40 am and en route home, taking pics of the pumpkins and working on a song about how great the Art House Cafe is.
i’ll get my results tomorrow or Saturday, and then if they are good, we’ll go out for our one cheat meal every 3 months: dim sum at Yangze, a local Asian restaurant and institution that is closing its doors next month. Dim sum is the one food type I miss more than any other. We can easily find alternatives for pizza or pasta or rice dishes, but the buns, the dumplings…nope. No substitutes. So just after I do my A1C test is a great time to have it. A little taboo but won’t affect my long term, 3 month numbers.
I will do the test next at the end of January. Will it be icy and cold? Will I have to bundle up? Doing the A1C every 3 months makes me think of the Catholic confessional. I think of my sins of the last three months: forgive me, Father Diabetes, I consumed cake and sugar cookies at the Writers Festival. I shared a half donut with a dear friend. I shared brownies and Nanaimo bars with Charles weekly. And we have pork buns at Kowloon on Sundays. We split them. The fact is though, I’m not eating a bag of junk food weekly like I used to. I don’t eat fast food or processed food. I never order in pizza. I don’t eat friend foods. I’ve lost 60-65 pounds since my initial diagnosis. It’s weight I needed to lose to help my pancreas process glucose more efficiently. I am fucking lucky. My life is sweet. Irony intended.
Image description: I stand in between a stuffed bear balancing on a golden ball with purple, blue and silver stars and a striped macabre clown stabbing a creepy pale ghoul in the brain.