It took a few weeks after Andy received his insurance rejection letter for everything to sink in and for him to get an appointment with a doctor.
(Before I go further, I should probably tell you a couple more things about Andy.
1: He was never a huge fan of going to the doctor.
2: He really doesn’t like to be told what to do. I mean really doesn’t like to be told
what to do.
3: Getting diagnosed with Type II diabetes wasn’t sitting too well with his psyche.)
Knowing these three things, I’m hoping you understand that when I say the doctor’s appointment didn’t go well, that it REALLY didn’t go well.
The doctor took one look at his insurance test results, gave him a handful of prescriptions along with a blood glucose meter (and all the accoutrement that goes along with that lovely apparatus), and instructions to go see a nutritionist. And that was about it.
He came home with his hands full of prescription slips, an angry “I don’t want to talk about it” look on his face, and no information on how we were supposed to fight this—no recommendations for dietary or lifestyle changes, nothing. He hadn’t even bothered to fill the prescriptions.
After a couple days I went down to the pharmacy, filled the prescriptions, and came away with a head full of instructions about how to calibrate the blood glucose meter and even more questions. Andy called the nutritionist only to find out that the first available appointment wasn’t for six weeks.
At this point I realized we were completely on our own.
I started doing research, borrowing books from the library, looking for that magic solution that would make this go away—like yesterday. The more I dug, the more overwhelmed I got and the more I prayed.
Staying positive in the face of a loved one’s adversity is exhausting. My soul was weary and distressed. God felt far away, but still I prayed. I didn’t know what else to do.
I’m not going to lie and tell you that prayer made everything immediately better. Our journey was far from over. We fought, cried, dealt with frustration, anger, and fear. This was a very dark time for us.
If you continue to read our story over the coming weeks and months, you’ll see that things did get better. The light at the end of the tunnel got bigger (and sometimes smaller, then bigger again). Through it all, God was there. He may have felt far away, but he wasn’t.