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| Image courtesy of Stuart Miles at FreeDigitalPhotos.net |
Seven days ago I was taken to the ER because I thought I was having a stroke. My eyesight was fuzzy and tunneled. My head felt like someone was pushing between my right temple and eye socket with all their force and my whole head felt like it was in a vise. Walking was almost impossible because I had to grab things to keep steady and I was leaning heavily to the right. The brain fog was the worst though it felt like I was walking in a mirror image of what I knew. (Opening my back door expecting to see the bathroom was my wakeup call.) I was scary calm. I knew something was wrong and that panic would just make it worse. I don't remember much about the ER except hearing someone say they don't see how I walked in, my kids, my kids are how I walked in. My blood pressure was through the roof, my thyroid was messed up, and my blood sugar was 500. I walked in because I didn't want to scare my kids any more than they already were.
I was in the hospital for three days and three nights. I prayed a lot that first night, just whatever my heart went to and I cried a lot, not sobs, but just a steady flow of tears. I didn't know if I was still living in PA or if I had actually moved back to AL, the view from the room of treetops and rooftops didn't help the confusion, calming as it was. My son had to send me a text reassuring me of where I lived, that the kids were fine and with him and a family friend. I remembered enough after a while when the panic hit to look at the text from David. I asked questions I don't remember the answer to now and I made it a point to do what the nurses and doctors told me. (Hold on, I need to check my sugar level. I'll be right back.) Let me tell you being put on fall risk is a pain in the butt, literally, your bottom gets numb and you have to keep shifting to stay comfortable. I was on it for a little over two days and it was the pits. I hated having to call someone to help me pee. I'm just glad I knew a little about nursing so I'd call when the urge first hit in case they were busy. My discomfort is nowhere near as important as someone's life. Codes happen and lives can and will be easily lost by a delayed response. The best part of it though was I WAS HEARD! I was listened to for the first time in over a decade of dealing with doctors. If I was judged it was not shown by anyone, not from the doctors, not from the nurses, and not even by the cleaning staff. Being heard has been huge for me. I've had some very bad experiences with doctors. I hated being in the hospital, but it was nice to be taken seriously.
Now, now I'm home and writing again. My blood sugar is up, and I've since learned of two foods which cause a spike, which is part of it. I've been looking on Pinterest, Facebook, and other places for information, meal plans, and support trying to learn all I can about my new life with diabetes. My kids are adjusting (that's a whole different blog post) and so am I. I'm alive. I'm better than I was, and I'm taking it one day at a time.
