I need a word...

I'm nauseous. I roll over a take a Zofran. Then I realize it is not waves of nausea crashing over me. I am just nauseous. I reach out for my blood pressure monitor and fumble to get it on. Then I realize just how weak and faded I am. My blood sugar monitor is downstairs. My glucose tablets bottle by my bed has just one. I gobble it and try to stand. Then. Then the sweating and anxiety and that weird headache crash down on me. I fall. I crawl to the stairs. I fall down the stairs. I crawl to the kitchen and manage to reach the cabinet with the monitor and full bottle of tablets. I shove four more in my mouth and then check my blood sugar. It is 46. I eat two more tablets and fall back to the floor. I call out to Amos, who surely thinks I'm just getting fresh ice packs, because he is still upstairs in bed. He finally hears my whimpering and comes. I convince him to lie on the freezing tile floor of the kitchen. I am too weak to weep. After a while, I get up and eat a granola bar and peanuts and drink a glass of milk. I sink to the floor again until I think I can get back to bed.

I am afraid.
I loathe my body.
I am alone.
I despair my life.
I am ill.
I am incredibly weak and still faded.
I am shell shocked.

I need a word that means all that. A word that means all that happened and all that I feel. A word that I can say and someone will know what I mean.