Chapter 9
Alison managed to stifle a yawn and gave the woman sitting opposite her a sheepish look.
‘They don’t rush, do they?’ the woman said, rolling her eyes. ‘I’ve been sat here for over half an hour. Should have been seen twenty minutes ago.’
‘Oh heck.’ Alison hoped her appointment wouldn’t be delayed for that long. She’d only been sitting in the doctor’s waiting room for ten minutes and she was already tempted to get up and leave.
She glanced around, noting the depressing green shade of paint on the walls and the dark, functional carpet.
A quick glance at the posters on the walls had already proved too much for her, warning of all sorts of nasty possibilities and making urgent demands that patients should take this test, ask for that referral, speak to a professional about this condition and that symptom.
She felt like screaming and running out of the building.
Her heart was already thumping, and she knew her blood pressure would shoot up the minute she walked into the nurse’s consulting room, if it hadn’t already. Why couldn’t they just increase her medication and be done with it? Why did she even need to see the nurse at all?
The consulting room door opened and a blonde woman of about thirty looked out, a bright smile on her face.
‘Alison Parker?’
A different nurse this time then, Alison realised as she got to her feet, giving an apologetic look to the woman who was still waiting. The woman shrugged and popped a Polo into her mouth as Alison headed shakily to the consulting room.
‘Take a seat, love,’ the nurse said, settling herself in front of the computer. ‘By, you’re harder to track down than the Scarlet Pimpernel! It’s been over three weeks since your blood tests.’
‘I’ve, er, had a lot on,’ Alison said, her throat dry with nerves.
She eyed the blood pressure monitor with dread.
Already she could imagine the cuff wrapped around her arm, and the panic building within her as it tightened its grip bit by bit.
‘I didn’t think it was that high,’ she added, thinking aloud.
The nurse looked up from the computer screen. ‘Sorry?’
‘My blood pressure. I didn’t think my readings were that bad.’
‘Oh, no, they’re not. I’ve shown them to the doctor, and he doesn’t think you need to increase your medication – at least not this time.
He’d like you to come back in three months and we’ll see how you are then, and in the meantime keep an eye on it yourself at home.
Don’t get obsessed though, mind. Don’t want you to get addicted to reading your blood pressure, do we?
’ She laughed and Alison thought there was fat chance of that happening.
‘So, if it’s not my blood pressure, why am I here?’ she asked, puzzled.
The nurse swivelled round in her chair to face Alison fully, which she found deeply alarming.
‘It’s your blood tests, love. Well, your HbA1c to be exact.’
‘My what?’
‘Blood sugar levels. The test result shows you’re at 49, which just tips you into the diabetic range.’
Alison stared at her. ‘You’re saying I’m diabetic?’
‘Well, it’s possible it’s just a blip, which is why I’d like to do another blood test today, just to double-check.
If the results come back the same, you’d need to make an appointment with the doctor to discuss medication, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.
Now, can you take your coat off and roll up your sleeve for me, please? ’
Feeling dazed, Alison did as requested, barely feeling it when the nurse took yet another sample of blood from her arm. Diabetic? This was a whole other ball game and not one she wanted to play. It must be a mistake, surely?
All right, she’d gained a bit of weight since Drew’s death, and there had been a lot of comfort eating and microwave meals since she’d lived alone, and yes, she had developed quite a taste for sugary treats since looking after the twins…
She remembered yesterday when she’d not only eaten the blueberry muffin at her parents’ home but had helped herself to two enormous slices of Elaine’s coffee and walnut cake at her aunt and uncle’s house.
Thinking about it all now, as the nurse labelled the tube of blood and threw her gloves in the bin before washing her hands, she realised it maybe wasn’t as surprising as she’d initially thought. Even so…
‘I don’t want more medication,’ she said faintly. ‘It’s bad enough being on blood pressure tablets.’
‘Well, like I said, we’ll get these blood tests done and then we’ll worry about what comes next once we know for sure,’ the nurse said. ‘Any other concerns you’d like to talk about today?’
She was already typing her notes up on the screen. Alison said, ‘And there’s nothing else showing up in the blood tests? It’s just the diabetes?’
Just the diabetes. Like that wasn’t enough.
‘Everything else has come back fine,’ the nurse said cheerfully.
‘Your cholesterol’s a bit high, but not high enough to need medication.
Basically, you need to take a bit better care of yourself.
That’s what it boils down to. We do run a weight loss clinic here, you know. Would you like me to refer you?’
Alison mentally shuddered, memories of her sporadic attempts to lose weight by attending Lightweights’ meetings filling her with dread. ‘No. No, thanks.’ She considered for a moment. ‘I read somewhere that diabetes can be reversed. Is that true?’
The nurse looked suddenly interested. ‘That’s right. Well, it’s possible, with diet and weight loss.’
‘I’d rather do that,’ Alison told her. ‘I don’t want to take any more medication. If the results come back the same, can I ask the doctor if I can try to reverse it myself?’
The nurse considered. ‘These tests show the amount of blood glucose over a period of three months,’ she said slowly.
‘I can give you three months, if you like. Three months to lose some weight and lower your glucose levels yourself. Then you’d have to come back in for a blood test, and we’ll see what happens then. What do you think?’
Alison nodded. ‘Thank you. I’ll try that. So I should still ring for the results?’
‘Yes. Call the surgery in a couple of days and I’ll leave a message with the receptionist to tell her to give you the result, but that no appointment’s necessary at this time.
Even if this was a blip – and to be honest, I doubt it – it would do you good to try to get your blood sugar levels down.
Best-case scenario is that you’re pre-diabetic, and that’s not a good position to be in either. ’
‘I’ll do the diet whatever the result,’ Alison promised.
The nurse smiled and scribbled something down, before handing her a piece of paper. ‘A couple of reputable websites there with good advice and useful tips. Good luck.’
‘Thank you.’
Alison stumbled out of the room and vaguely noticed that the woman who’d been sitting opposite her had gone, presumably into another consulting room unless she’d given up and gone home in disgust.
She headed downstairs and into the main reception area, nodding briefly at the receptionists before pushing open the door with relief and stepping out into normality. Her pulse was racing, and she felt sick with fear. Leaning against the wall, she took a few deep breaths to steady herself.
‘I need to do something ordinary,’ she said aloud.
The supermarket wasn’t far away. What was more ordinary than popping in there to buy something for tea?
She needed to browse shelves, maybe treat herself to a magazine or a novel, see people pushing trolleys, struggling with baskets that they’d overfilled.
Her eyes filled with tears. She’d promised Rosie that she’d make an appointment for her cervical smear, and she’d intended to mention it at the reception, but her nerve had failed her.
She’d just wanted to get out of this place, away from all the memories of Drew and the many, many appointments she’d attended with him, and all the things that had gone with that.
The other tests would have to wait. She had enough to deal with right now. She took another deep breath then strode purposefully towards her car.
A faint ping coming from her bag informed her that she had a text message. Initially tempted to ignore it, she realised it might be something to do with her parents, so against her better judgement she took out her phone, her heart sinking as she realised the text was from her daughter.
Jenna
Hiya Mum. Can we meet for a coffee in my lunch hour? 12.15 at The Park Cafe? Need to talk.
Alison groaned. What did that mean? Was Jenna going to try to convince her that she’d got it all wrong, and what she’d seen that evening at her daughter’s house wasn’t what she’d imagined?
No doubt Jenna was getting desperate for her to take over the childcare duties again.
Well, she wasn’t going to fall for it. Not this time.
She climbed into the driver’s seat of her car and tapped out a reply.
Alison
I’ll be there.
It wasn’t much, but she felt it said enough for now. She’d have plenty to say in person if it came to it.
As if this day couldn’t get any worse.