Good Grief.

What to wear, what to wear...on a road trip across Western Canada in the winter. More important is the question...What to pack?
K. You are probably thinking, "Oh brother, Susie. Give it up." But with a speaking engagement, the symphony, shopping at West Edmonton mall, and the possibility of being stranded on the side of the road in a whiteout for a week, there is a lot to think about. I mean, should my hair be curly or straight when the police officer taps on the window to see if we are still alive? I suppose after a week of highway-shoulder living, not even dry shampoo will save me. ;)
But I'll be honest. It didn't instill a lot of confidence in me when my husband said, very seriously, "We should pack a cooler full of extra food just in case a storm hits."  Good grief.
But for serious (as one of my friends would say), I am really looking forward to meeting some new people and hopefully inspiring a few touched by diabetes, hanging out with old friends and spending quality time with my husband. (Is 50 hours trapped side by side in a car adequate? Well, it's guaranteed quantity but quality might be a little iffy by about hour 42 ;)  Got any hot topics or world issues we could discuss? I find a good debate makes the car go faster. (Is it a time illusion? Or does the "heat" in the car make Don's foot a little more expressive? ;)
 I suppose I should stop stalling and go wrestle my suitcase(s!) closed. Time is a-tickin'.
My ratio of 4 pairs of jeans and boots and hoodies and sweaters to every 1 of Don's makes sense right? ;)

I'm Losing It!

I have a confession to make.
I haven't been on my treadmill for a few days.
Quite a few days.
And
I haven't been keeping up with my food/blood sugar journal for a few days.
Quite a few days.
It's happening.
I am losing.
            Con.
                trol.
It's days like this when I am very disappointed in myself. I feel like, because of this platform, and because I speak to the public in a motivational fashion, I have to have it all together. I am supposed to be the example. If you don't practice what you preach...right?
Well. Here's the facts. After having this disease for over 28 years and having done much research into the human body and having experienced nasty complications and after making major changes...I still don't have all my *#$* together. (Substitute "stuf". What were you thinking? ;)
Seriously. I am flawed. When it comes to diabetic control or whether it comes to loving people well, I don't get it right a lot of the time.
So if there ever was a pedestal, I am voluntarily jumping off. I don't want to be there. (Plus, it's better than getting pushed, which is bound to happen.)
If there is one thing I know for sure in this life, it's this: Being honest and open about our failures is often more refreshing than an attitude of arrogance.
So today, my friends, I am being real.
I am frustrated. Lonely. Scared. Disappointed.
But somehow, as I sit here stressed out by personal failures, I need to turn this around. Turn the frustration into motivation. The loneliness into a call for help. The fear into determination. And the disappointment into fuel for change.
It's time to turn the page.
In my food journal, that is. ;)

Black Friday Madness! Yay!!

It's a new special day today! Yes, even here now in the Great White North of Canada we are celebrating Black Friday! Which means SALES SALES SALES!
I got to wondering...where did this negative term come from on such a delightful non-holiday holiday? My research shows that the term was coined by the Philadelphia Police Department in 1966 due to the highest traffic day of the year. Apparently this is a bad day to be a cop in Philadelphia!
But a great day to be a shopper!
I am trying to talk my husband into taking me to the mall tonight but I have just one dilemma with that.
He is notorious for seeing a good deal on something he wants and buying it for himself...after having asked for that very item for Christmas. Of course, being the good wife that I am, I will have already either purchased the item or arranged for another loved one to buy it as the perfect gift.
Every year.
So you know that if I convince him to take me shopping on this crazy busy and exciting sale day, he will most certainly buy himself at least one of the beautifully wrapped gifts I already have under my tree. Danger danger. What's a girl to do?
I think I'll risk it. I may have to do some fancy fast talk as we pass the sports store but maybe I can distract him with my beauty. Show him some leg or something.
Yeah. I feel in the mood to be out and about in the hustle and bustle. I'm sure it's pure madness out there! (My sister is probably thinking I have lost my mind right now as she tends to avoid these types of "events" . But really sis? I lost my mind a looooong time ago. ;)
So I guess I'll go take my platinum locks upstairs and blow dry and style them into a fabulous distraction. (Just in case my leg doesn't work ;)
Happy Black Friday everyone! (What an oxymoron!)

Fight My Friend, Fight!

I have a good friend. A very brave good friend. Strong and admirable comes to mind. Deep and wise and fun also get jumbled up in all my words for him. And sometimes he is even frustrating. But that is just because when I ask him an important life question he doesn't just give me the answer. He makes me think. Think for myself. And if I am going to list the frustrating qualities I might just add that when he tells me to "Re-laaax" as I am freaking out over, well, nothing much, I want to strangle him. ;)
Yes, this post is in honor of my very special friend. It's his birthday today and I want to celebrate.
You may wonder why this friend, why this birthday.
Well, my friend is battling Cancer. With a capital C.
I'm told people with cancer often measure time differently than the rest of us. Time becomes about every milestone. Christmas. A daughter's grad. The birth of a grandchild. A birthday.
Yes, a birthday.
I am thankful for every opportunity to celebrate the moment in time our earth was blessed with the presence of my friend. And every day since.
For all those who have been touched, or beaten up by the beast of C, I'm sorry. But please...don't give up, don't give in. This life is worth fighting for.
And today, I will celebrate.

Melodic Harmonies

I love the symphony. Two weeks from now I will be witnessing this great, coming together of musical happiness. Bows gliding over strings creating harmonies, meshing with the melodic voices of flutes and glockenspiels as human life infuse them with love.
A similar harmony occurs when tulle and satin merge with well-manicured toes peeking out of peep-toe heels and a lovely up-do cascading down a long delicate neck. And what an appropriate look that would be for the symphony! (Too bad I don't have that long delicate neck ;)
Life with diabetes can be symphonic as well, when blood sugar levels harmonize with doses of insulin, creating a calm lullaby of health and wellness.
But sometimes life feels and sounds more like the warm-up. You know what I am talking about, right? The horns clash with the strings which clash with the cymbals which just clash. It's not pretty. If ever you have experienced a warm-up tuning session at the symphony, you've experienced messy noise.
And messy noise is what happens when your body is out of balance, diabetes is out of control, or you wear grey sweats tucked into red cowboy boots.
But life is just like that right? You can't have the beauty of the symphony without the practice session with all the noise. (Well, perhaps you could skip the cowboy boots and sweats ;)
So I am thankful that I have felt both the mess and the harmony.
Because once tuned-in, the orchestra of life is a beautiful thing.
Did I mention I love the symphony?

Just Act Natural?

Oh, my good friend Zoey.
"Zoey" has a glitch in her brain. Now before you go judging me for judging her, just read on for a moment. (By the way, this post is totally random and has nothing to do with fashion or diabetes. This is where the "Other Fun Stuff" comes in ;)
Here's a little background:
She works in a coffee shop and makes delicious vanilla lattes. No problem there right? She is very friendly and when she smiles, or better yet giggles, whomever witnesses it cannot help but mirror the sentiment. Still no problem right?
Now we'll get to the glitch. A British man with a British accent went into the coffee shop to order one of those warm, love-filled lattes and Zoey politely responded to him in her British accent. Only Zoey is not British. Zoey is an English speaking Caucasian, yes, but is very much Canadian. In the non-British sense. (Speaking of being a mirror...)
After discussing this most amusing happening with the star of the show, Zoey herself, I learned that this is not the first time this phenomenon has taken place. Apparently, whenever someone speaks to her in an accent - any accent - she automatically responds likewise. Then, she has a decision to make - does she carry on, hoping to appear natural and of the same descent but probably looking like a fool? (I'm thinking Chinese or Latino might be a bit of a challenge for her, with her naturally blonde hair cascading down her shoulders as she bats her blue eyes. ;) Or does she switch back to her regular inflection, making her mistake painfully obvious - and look like a fool. Hmm...Tough call, tough call.
I can only hope I witness this one day. That girl brings more smiles to my life than she could ever know. If laughter is the best medicine, then she is the remedy to my stressed out heart.
Oh Zoey...what would I do without you!?! :)

A Real Nail-Biter

I recently started growing out my nails. This is a significant achievement since I have always been a nail-biter. Not only during cliff-hanger movies like Cliffhanger, but also just because I didn't like the feel of having nails.
I still don't.
The reason I am growing them now is purely for vanity sake. That, and people tell me it is unsanitary to eat whatever might be growing under there.
Speaking of which...that is one of the reasons I hate having long nails! It always feels like there is stuff under them. Like my ranch popcorn seasoning after a nice munching session while watching So You Think You Can Dance. Yuck. How do you get all the crumbs out from under those pearly white beauties?! I only want to taste the ranch then, on top of the popcorn. Not days later.
And another thing...I am...well...challenged when it comes to doing the most routine things with long nails. My eyeballs look like they have the Kiss symbol etched in them from taking out my contacts every day. I was undoing my white ;) winter coat today and accidentally filed my pointer finger on the zipper. That didn't bode well for my nicely manicured nail tip. Hand-hemming my pants is a ridiculously impossible task now. (As if I ever did that in the first place. I am six feet tall and I don't sew. Had you going there for a moment though right? ;)
But seriously...these claws are a tricky tricky situation.
I do enjoy how they hide my over-poked, squeeze dried fingertips from all the blood sugar taking. And, when I have an itch it feels really good to scratch. (Except for those pesky skin cells that get underneath...)
I can't believe I just spent the last half hour writing about fingernails. I think for tonight, that is my way of ignoring the darker side of life. I know there are more important things to be discussed, but I simply don't have the energy to go there right now.
So in honor of fluffy denial, this is as good as it's gonna get. On that note, I better run.
I've got to go paint my nails. ;)

Mr. Looney-Tunes

Let me start by saying that people sometimes wonder where I come up with my ideas for this blog. Well, apparently one just needs to go to their unfortunate routine ophthalmologist appointment and sit in the waiting room for an hour.
After having my pressures checked and my eyes dilated, (which, if I may interject into my own writings...makes Berber carpet look quite, umm, distracting? entertaining? disturbing to the brain?) I sat in the dimly lit exclusive "patients only" area and looked around.
I shouldn't have been shocked by what I saw, since wherever I go wonders don't usually cease, but found myself doing a double take none-the-less. Sitting across from me was a 60-ish year old man, wearing police-issue pants and boots, a looney-tunes t-shirt, and was reading a book called "Southeast Asia...on a Surfboard".
Okay, so I am sure he was a man, I am sure he was wearing police uniform pants and a cartooned shirt but due to my stuck open pupils, I can't quite be sure about the surfboard part. The writing was really small and I could only stare for so long before looking like a creepy young woman.
Never mind that, did you catch the part about the looney-tunes shirt?!?
Umm...I don't want to sound judgemental here but seriously?!? I almost drove him to the mall right then and there. It was just so bizarre.
But I feel for the guy. With my subtle eavesdropping ear I learned he is a bachelor in need of emergency retinal surgery tomorrow. I've been through a couple of eyeball surgeries and they are no fun, but at least I had the support of a present and loving spouse to help shoulder the pain.
Even in spite of the shirt, a single tear slips down my face and I close this day with a heavy heart. Here's hoping that all goes well tomorrow for (affectionately named) Mr. Looney-Tunes. I hope and pray you, kind sir,  will be able to take that trip to Southeast Asia on your surfboard? very soon and see it all.
With that thought and in honor of him, I say, sleep well my friends and goodnight.

Hubba-Hubba!

Oh Susie. Once again I find myself saying that phrase.
I went to my local wholesale warehouse today to do some Christmas shopping and pick up some much needed grocery items. Nothing too out of the ordinary there, right?
Except that while I was shopping, my blood sugar dropped ridiculously low and my glucose tablet reserves were dangerously absent since I had already experienced this very thing earlier today. So there I am - just me, my crazy diabetes and a quarter of the city's population with the same goals I had in the first place.
I'll be honest. No judgement please. Not thinking rationally (that'll happen when low), I went straight to the cookie aisle and purchased a plastic bucket of shortbreads. Without pride I proceeded to rip open the container and began scarfing down cookies to "save" myself. As I was pushing my cart, swallowing without tasting or chewing, all the while eating whatever food samples were being offered along my path, my cell phone rang and (again not thinking rationally) I answered it.
Let me paint the full picture for you.
I was in a stylin' outfit wearing stylin' boots with my stylin' hair. Good so far right? But that stylin' hair was stuck to the side of my face as the sweat poured down causing my makeup to run and did I mention half a cookie hanging out of my mouth with the other half in crumbs sitting oh-so-elegantly on the front of my chest? (Yes, I know that was a run-on sentence.) Can we say hubba-hubba?! ;)
As I talked to my friend and feeling very close to passing out, I got in line at the pharmacy area (perhaps where I should've gone in the first place?) and purchased some glucose tablets, which I choked down in a matter of seconds before I had even paid for them. I don't think the pharmacy tech appreciated my sweat soaked moolah as I handed it to him with shaky hands. But I figure he would have appreciated it even less if I had actually gone unconscious and caused the need for 911.
You can see where I am going with this right?
You know what happens after a sugar load like this?!? A very exhausting HIGH blood sugar a few hours later. Not to mention the stomach ache from __ shortbread cookies. (What? You didn't think I was going to admit to you how many I actually ate, did you?)
So, now I have loaded up on insulin, possibly causing this mad cycle to continue endlessly. (Although I left the unused portion of cookies in the car so I couldn't dip into it again. Can you imagine the stomach ache?!?)
So, please keep this between us. (That's code for "please please don't tell my husband.")
I have regained my rationality? Rationalism? Rationalize-ability? What I am trying to say is, I am now thinking more clearly and I've learned from my rookie mistake. No need to lecture.
So now...anyone want a cookie?

The Ultimate Makeover

I love makeover shows.
 If you think I am too obsessed with fashion or outer beauty, please, keep reading.
Some of those shows are better than others of course. In fact some (I won't mention any names) have elements quite hideous - the clothes and hair they put the people in that is, not the people themselves.
But when shows like What Not To Wear take a person from their starting point to the finish line, it usually is an amazing transformation.
The episode I tuned into today was exceptionally special. The woman being made-over had the self-esteem of a bug (which may not even be the right analogy since how the heck are we supposed to know what a bug's self-esteem is?!? Maybe they are a proud sort?) and hated her reflection in the mirror. At least in the first half of the show.
Then Stacey and Clinton and the hair and makeup team worked their magic and the woman actually began to smile when she saw herself. Her confidence level began to climb, if not to the top of the self-worth stairwell, at least up a few steps. Her demeanor changed, and her natural beauty started to shimmer like diamonds in sunlight. That, in turn, made me smile. That is what a makeover should be about.
Which brings me to another kind of makeover. I'll call it the Ultimate Makeover. When I started making healthy choices for myself such as eating low-carb, exercising, doing my blood sugar regularly and getting an insulin pump, I could feel not only the physical benefits, but also a demeanor change of my own. I used to live with the constant companion of guilt, which dug into me like the claws of a falcon, never letting me feel relief. Even when I wasn't conscious of this enemy, it was always there. Now I mostly feel free from its grasp, living my life with an over-arcing contentment.
Sure I have my days. Those days when I know I could still do things better. But at least I now have a new-found confidence that I am headed in the right direction. My wardrobe of healthy choices is paying off.
So yes, I love a good makeover. Whether it be flattering jeans with a new blazer and a fresh new haircut, or whether it be sensible eating and a higher level of fitness, they make me smile.
Who could possible have a problem with that?! :)

Don't Let Diabetes Win!!!

Today is a very special occasion. Ironically, my body is choosing to revolt but I won't let it get the best of me. No. This day cannot go unnoticed.
It is World Diabetes Day.
Of course this brings a multitude of emotion which swirls inside my heart. What does one do on a day like this? Do I ponder and reflect on my 28 years of tangling with this beast? Do I get angry at the stats of how many people our touched (burnt?) by this disease? Do I celebrate?
And here's a question...What do I wear? ;)
I figure my workout clothes are appropriate while I try to convince my body that even though it feels like it's in the crapper, my treadmill is still probably the best option. This fight I find myself in is a good representation of the day to day battle of living with diabetes.
But more important than getting stuck in those questions I asked a little earlier is this:
There is HOPE!
Diabetes does not have to win. At least some control can be gained by giving it your best shot in this shooting match.
And as tired as I get, I will choose to continue to enjoy life and laugh. I want to laugh a lot.
So each time I poke my finger with a lancet to draw blood, I will be thankful for the life that blood still gives me as it nourishes my body. Each time I change my pump site, I will be thankful for the technology available to us to better fight this thing. Each time I lace up my runners to get on that blasted treadmill, I will be thankful I still have all my toes to slide into them. Each time my blood sugar goes low, I will be thankful I have food in my cupboards which will treat that low and bring me back to life. Each time I choose a salad over pasta (Mmmm, I love pasta) I will be thankful for the power of choice that I have, of what I put into my mouth.
Each time I hug my husband, I will be thankful for the love and support he and so many others offer so readily every day.
So, if you have diabetes, congratulate yourself on making it this far and keep going for the Gold. Never give up. We're a team. Let's do it together.
And if you know or love someone with diabetes, please take a moment to recognize the fight they are in and encourage them. We need you more than you know.
So will I reflect, get angry or celebrate? Probably all three.
But on this very special day - World Diabetes Day - I will choose to be thankful.
Now onto that blasted treadmill...;)

Dress to Impress?

When you dress to impress...are you trying to impress those you know or those you don't? That is the question of the day.
Now, I know some of you are thinking...that's the wrong question. The question should be..."Do you dress to impress?" or "Should you dress to impress? Those are valid questions, but they are not for today. Today's question is about when and not if. If you never dress to impress, then you can feel free to stop reading at any time. But honestly, I don't believe you.
So, back to the question. When you are trying to impress others with your stunning beauty and exquisite style, would you rather turn the heads of those who you've never met and will probably never see again, with the intent of making a fabulous first (and last?) impression? Does the thought of knowing whether they are impressed or appalled intrigue you? Or, do you dress in a certain fashion to catch the eye of those who know you and already have seen your stylin' ways, trying to keep up your reputation of being trendy and hip? Even though these liked ones (or perhaps enemies?) would probably forgive and forget a day of yoga pants and tennis shoes here and there? (Well, perhaps not the enemies. ;)
Sometimes, if I'm being honest, I do my blood sugar more often just to impress my Doc. Instead of using that meter as a tool to gather information to better manage my diabetes, I do the poke (using a lancet and not Facebook in case you were confused ;) because I know if my record book is not flowing with numeric values and notes, the wrath of my very gentle, soft-spoken Endo will  come upon me. Silly, I know. Why wouldn't I want to know the numbers for myself? Why wouldn't my goal be to get the best numbers possible for. my. self?
For sure that is my goal, but I think because I've been burned by that little monster of a glucose meter too many times, with it spitting out nasty unacceptable numbers, I am a little lancet-shy. Still, it feels so good when they are good.
So maybe I'll start taking more risks and do my blood sugar even when I can tell it's not perfect, using an appropriate amount of insulin as a weapon against it for the next poke. (Again... not Facebook.)
And I'm sure I will still have days when I want to impress the masses with awesome fashion ensembles, whether they be friendly faces or strangers, but will continue to also dress for me. In what feels good to me.
Whether it comes to doing my blood sugars more often to impress my Doc or for myself, or dressing to impress others or to impress me, I have a feeling about this one...
In both categories, they are probably one and the same. ;)

Shout-Out to New Friends!

I "met" a new friend today. Already I feel honored to know her even just a little. She too, deals with diabetes and other health issues. As excited as I am to get to know her via email, it saddens me to know of even just one more person with diabetes.
It reminds me of how many people are spinning inside this epidemic. And with Type 1, there is no way out.
But...
I am inspired by my fellow-sufferers, for their bravery and endurance when it comes to this day-in and day-out disease.
I am also reminded that it could be worse. I was thinking about my own situation while responding to my new friend, and I realized I still have sight, I still have circulating blood, (albeit a warped and sweet variety. Unlike when talking about my personality, that's not a good adjective. Wait. I think I just called myself warped. No comments from my family please!) I have breath and am surrounded by people who love me. What more could a girl ask for? (Other than hair extensions or a new pair of shoes of course. ;)
But seriously...Yes I have health issues. Yes I have stress. But intertwined in all of that is a gratitude that I never want to let go of. Or forget about. Yes. Today was a good reminder.
So with that, here is a shout-out to my new friend. Keep fighting and keep smiling! I've got your back.
P.S. If anyone else would like to chat, ask questions or just vent about life, you can click on my picture above and it will guide you to my website. You can contact me there and I will gladly enter into dialogue with you. (Unless you are a stalker and if so, please give me a heads up ;)

Can't Fake It Jake

My blood sugar is whack. Yes, I am a natural blond (and unnaturally more blond), almost middle-aged woman and probably can't pull off that term. But regardless...
Stress. Ugh. So sick and tired of it. And now I am starting to feel literally sick and tired. Thus the skyrocketing blood sugar readings. Meaning, it could be the stress causing my blood sugar to rise or it could be the stress causing me to be sick which is causing my blood sugar to rise.
I once again feel the need for some retail therapy.
Actually, I avoided a discount store today precisely for that reason. It could be d-a-n-g-e-r-o-u-s for my pocketbook. (Where did that saying come from? I don't keep my money in my pocket nor do I keep it in a book in my pocket.)
Anyway, shopping will not make my stress go away or lower my blood sugar today anymore than any other day. In fact, having to explain a frivolous purchase to my husband can only add to the stress, giving the viscous cycle momentum to spin harder and faster. We definitely don't want that. (Although a new purse is always justifiable right? A woman has needs...)
And if I may rant a slight bit more...
I just purchased a new blood glucose meter which includes a USB drive that will graph all my results and info. I am excited to use this new little gadget which I think I will call "Can't Fake it Jake" - at least I was earlier today. Now that my blood sugar is whack (Yeah. That's right. I said it again. In your face!), I don't dare let the technologically advanced tiny machine record the evidence giving it the power to hand my proverbial head-on-a-platter to my doc. No, little Jakey will have to wait. Hmph.
So I guess I'll go crank up the insulin and vitamin C.
Under the circumstances that's the best Ther-a-py.
(Get it? That was a miniature tiny little poem ;)
Goodnight! :)

Frapps and Laughs

Starbucks now has sugar-free mocha flavoring!!! Yay!!! So now my Grande lite-based mocha frappuccino made with skim milk and without whipped cream will be totally sugar free! I think my bank account is about to lose some more weight. That's probably the opposite of what's about to happen to my waistline. Sure, it's the "lite" version but it still can't be good for you.
I found out this exciting tid-bit by accident when I went there to write today. Since I asked for the lite-base version, the kind grey-haired woman serving me seemed to read the invisible "I have diabetes" tattoo on my forehead and had the fortitude to tell me about this new option. She then went on to entice me with future options of mocha protein smoothies and such. I'm not sure if she was under the spell of my beauty and wanted to please, or if she was trying to put me under her spell of future sales and was just that good at her job. Either way, I skipped to my seat a happy woman.
Since I was in the Chapters location, being surrounded by books and armed with my sugar-free delight I felt in a creative mood. I accomplished a big chunk of prep for an upcoming speaking engagement on the topic of diabetes. I'm not sure if it was the mocha frappuccino or the friendly atmosphere, but I sure found my jokes funny. And even if the people hearing my motivational talk don't feel the same, I know the two men sipping their coffee beside me were amused as I chuckled out loud at my own cleverness.
So all in all my trip to Starbucks in Chapters was a success. At least I will delude myself with that thought until I give the talk and find out maybe I'm not as humorous as I think I am.
Hey, can you do me a favor?
Laugh if you think I am funny!

A Stylin' Doc

I saw my Doc today. Okay, I suppose I need to be a little more specific since the contact list in my phone has about eight people listed starting with the title "Dr".
My visit was with my Endocrinologist who manages my hormonal glands (as in Thyroid, Pituitary, etc., not the PMS-ing kind ;) as well as my diabetes.
It went well. It went really well. My A1C, which tells us what my average 3-month blood sugars were, was back down to my normal range. I much preferred my Dr. saying "I am really impressed with your improvements", to "You should be working harder", which is what I got at my last appointment.
AND...
My non-mood altering hormones are normal. Yay! (We won't talk about the mood-altering ones. That is a different story ;)
While I was sitting in the exam room, I noticed something interesting. At least I think it is interesting. It was my Doc's coat hanging on the back of the door. It looked very sharp, very stylin' and very expensive. I was soooo tempted to take it off the hook and look at the label, but was terrified he would walk in and catch me. It would've been wrong, right? Right? Cuz I'll probably have another opportunity in February when I go see him again. Unless of course he upgrades to a warmer wool. But that might be equally intriguing.
It makes me wonder what kind of car he drives. And if he is married. (Don't freak out. I'm not interested, I just think he works too much to have a wife, but what kind of coat would she be wearing if he did? That would be the one perk to being married to a specialist - the income. Think of all the shopping that could be had... ;)
Anyway, I didn't peek, which was a good thing because he came in to the room seconds after I considered it. I have a feeling he wouldn't have been so free with the compliments if he caught me invading his privacy.
Wait a minute! He's a doctor! He has the power to dethrone my total privacy with one stupid paper gown! (Don't get me started!)
That's it.
Next time I peek...