Would that it were not this way...

Lying on the kitchen floor, afraid........

My blood sugar crashed, but I am so nauseous that I really wasn't understanding what was happening. Amos, though, dragged me out of bed to go outside. I tried to ignore him because I feel so wretched, but he refused to get back in bed and did his patented bark/growl/whine until I got up and dressed for the snow that is falling outside.

He watered nearly every plant in the yard, sort of just puttering about. I was having a hard time standing, while waiting for him. And then I finally realized that beneath the nausea was brewing that odd mix of anxiety/trembling/fading. Sure enough, the last test strip in the house told me I was crashing.

It is hard enough to shove food into your mouth hand over fist when you are panicking and weak. It is even harder to do so when you are also nauseous. I had had two ginger candies for the nausea, which--along with my puppy's need--probably saved me from that point of no return. I've been there a few times, but always with someone to rescue me...half drown me by pouring juice down my throat. I am so fearful that this is happening when I am alone.

The doctor worked out that entire shifting of my medications just so this would happen during the day, instead of the middle of the night. I do not know why it is happening now, especially after a day of copious protein and few carbohydrates.

In any case, I am lying on the kitchen floor, afraid, waiting for my body to stop this nightmare so that I might crawl back into bed. I think that woman writing about her illness was right on target with her choice of metaphor. My life has me trapped on a carousel that I cannot seem to get off. Would that it were not this way.

To add insult to injury, the regular testing of my blood pressure has shown multiple times of where my pulse pressure, the difference between the systolic and diastolic readings, is 60-75 points. It should be 30-40. I thought I would be charting my low blood pressure moments, which I have been. However, I am also charting these wild spikes (consistent in both arms).

I am too weary to face yet another battle with my body. And too poor to fund another round of doctor's visits and tests. I cry, "Uncle!"


I am Yours, Lord. Save me!