For the last three days, I have been sick with food poisoning. I know what it was, and I am doing better, but I am here to complain about one particular aspect of this nightmare. I can deal with the stomach distress and the BRAT diet, I'm ok with the lightheadedness and cabin fever, I'm fine with the simultaneous period cramps, and I can even handle the heartburn or acid reflux or whatever the hell is going on there, but Jesus H. Christ, the blood sugar crashes are killing me.
The worst was the first night, when I was throwing up for hours. That finally stopped at 2, and I spent the next hour and a half sipping juice and emergency soda, just barely keeping myself at 70. I was too nauseated to eat anything, which makes me think about how to prepare for such problems in the future. Sparky brought me Gatorade and applesauce and saltines the next day, thankfully, and I have been maintaining with that.
I have been wobbling downstairs just enough to let the dogs potty. I had Jasmine for the week- Chris just came to pick her up last night. Thank god my neighbors were at work and that dog loves to chase a laser pointer. I can't wait to make it further than the parking lot before having to sit down- I am desperate for a walk. I'm hoping that's today. For right now, though, I'm sucking down the rest of the applesauce and hoping that's enough to keep me afloat, because my stomach rejected the idea of the saltines. I cannot even consider a granola bar. My options are limited. I'm gonna have to make it out tomorrow. I feel like a pioneer in a silly version: Little Apartment on the Prairie, and I need to hitch up the team and get to town, like it's this long, arduous journey.
Applesauce consumed, I now have to sit up for as long as possible to avoid the heartburn. I have been conscious of this for a long time, before I had any problems. It just seemed likely to happen if I was eating in the middle of the night due to crashes, so I would always try to sit up for a while, then prop myself up when back in bed. It occurred to me yesterday that whenever I have the room and the money, I should probably buy a recliner, so I can rest upright.
Yesterday, when I was finally able to get up and dressed and get the dogs downstairs, I made it to the wall by the carports and had to rest. We sat there, all of us enjoying the fresh air, when some guy jumped over the wall behind us. It scared the hell out of me and both dogs, and my blood sugar promptly crashed. Jesus.
These are the things that make diabetes so fun. Sparky did a nice job this year of shooting down my guilty notions that I brought diabetes on myself. The food poisoning, he hangs squarely on me. (I should not have risked that salad- I was a big dummy.) It is interesting, though, to let go of horrible beliefs and find that I'm not bad, I didn't do anything to deserve diabetes, and to recognize that it forces me to pay attention and take care of myself. Adrenaline and illness and stress all have an immediate effect on my blood sugar, and that doesn't mean I'm weak. It's just a symptom of a disease I'm still learning to accept.
I'm so tired. When my heartburn can stand it, I lie on the floor with my legs on the couch and let my back scream. I am constantly burping or hiccuping, lightheaded, nauseated, low, or conked out. If this doesn't let up, I'm going to have to have somebody drive me to the VA because I am too tired to keep up the vigilance. Maybe they could give me some anti-nausea medicine, something for the heartburn, or just stand watch over my blood sugar and let me get some sweet, sweet sleep.
