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Where the hell am I?
Mar. 20th, 2008 01:03 pmI feel like I'm floating. Or swimming, whatever. Which I suppose would make sense, given the events of the past 24 hours.
Yesterday started out sort of all right. I woke up from a night seizure at 2am, but that's nothing unusual. At around 9am I went to the post office to send a package to New Mexico, and then I took a walk down by the river. I don't remember anything after this until about 11 this morning, but here's what I've pieced together:
My gran said she heard what sounded like someone pounding on her ceiling at about 12:30 yesterday afternoon. This was actually me having a seizure, and the pounding was my head on the floor, lol. She came upstairs and tried to get me to drink orange juice, but I choked on it since I was unconscious. She finally decided to call 911 after about 15 minutes of me still pounding my head, and by the time the ambulance got there the back of my head was pretty much a big bloody mess.
When the poor paramedic tried to get me into a neck brace, I attacked him, according to the ER doctor and my gran. I ended up bashing his head against the wall. I feel awful about this, but I didn't know I was doing it. By the time I came to a little he was gone, so I never got to apologize. They finally managed to start a line for glucose and got me down the stairs and into the rig, and by the accounts of the ER doc I was screaming bloody murder all the way to the ER. Once there, they cut me out of my bloody clothes and sent me for a bunch of head scans. Luckily, it was only a mild concussion, but my head feels like a huge anvil now anyway.
I have no idea what went on after the head scans, but I woke up in restraints because apparently I tried to attack anyone who got close enough to try and remove my neck brace. Anyway, my sugar levels spiked a bottomed out a bunch of times through the night, and they were pretty worried for awhile until they got ahold of the endocrinologist.
He was livid when he came in to talk to me. Apparently, the doctors at the free clinic I go to have had me on the wrong type of insulin for the past four years, which is why I've had so much trouble getting regulated. The insulin that was causing all the problems is one given to treat Type II diabetics. I'm a Type I. No wonder I was all fucked up, huh? I'm lucky I'm alive. In fact, I'm kinda surprised that I am. According to to endocrinologist, I probably sustained a ton of liver and kidney damage over the past 4 years. They did tests on both (which I don't remember) and the results are supposed to be in this week.
Anyway, I'm on house arrest for the next week. I'm not allowed to exercise and I have to eat three square meals and three good snacks a day, no exceptions. That's really tough for me, my stomach shrank and I'm not hungry. But yeah, I'm on the actual correct type of insulin now, and this is the initial adjustment period for my body to acclimate to it. It's weird, I've been constantly warm the past few years, and all day I've been fucking freezing. I guess that means it's working though. Nice, eh? Fucking shit.
In short, I feel like ass. And I'm really scared I'm gonna lose my toe. It's been numb for a long time, and they said it's gonna be gangrenous soon. I really don't want to start amputations this early in life. Then again, I'm terrified I already killed my liver. And I don't even drink! How's that for good behavior??
I fucking hate America.
Yesterday started out sort of all right. I woke up from a night seizure at 2am, but that's nothing unusual. At around 9am I went to the post office to send a package to New Mexico, and then I took a walk down by the river. I don't remember anything after this until about 11 this morning, but here's what I've pieced together:
My gran said she heard what sounded like someone pounding on her ceiling at about 12:30 yesterday afternoon. This was actually me having a seizure, and the pounding was my head on the floor, lol. She came upstairs and tried to get me to drink orange juice, but I choked on it since I was unconscious. She finally decided to call 911 after about 15 minutes of me still pounding my head, and by the time the ambulance got there the back of my head was pretty much a big bloody mess.
When the poor paramedic tried to get me into a neck brace, I attacked him, according to the ER doctor and my gran. I ended up bashing his head against the wall. I feel awful about this, but I didn't know I was doing it. By the time I came to a little he was gone, so I never got to apologize. They finally managed to start a line for glucose and got me down the stairs and into the rig, and by the accounts of the ER doc I was screaming bloody murder all the way to the ER. Once there, they cut me out of my bloody clothes and sent me for a bunch of head scans. Luckily, it was only a mild concussion, but my head feels like a huge anvil now anyway.
I have no idea what went on after the head scans, but I woke up in restraints because apparently I tried to attack anyone who got close enough to try and remove my neck brace. Anyway, my sugar levels spiked a bottomed out a bunch of times through the night, and they were pretty worried for awhile until they got ahold of the endocrinologist.
He was livid when he came in to talk to me. Apparently, the doctors at the free clinic I go to have had me on the wrong type of insulin for the past four years, which is why I've had so much trouble getting regulated. The insulin that was causing all the problems is one given to treat Type II diabetics. I'm a Type I. No wonder I was all fucked up, huh? I'm lucky I'm alive. In fact, I'm kinda surprised that I am. According to to endocrinologist, I probably sustained a ton of liver and kidney damage over the past 4 years. They did tests on both (which I don't remember) and the results are supposed to be in this week.
Anyway, I'm on house arrest for the next week. I'm not allowed to exercise and I have to eat three square meals and three good snacks a day, no exceptions. That's really tough for me, my stomach shrank and I'm not hungry. But yeah, I'm on the actual correct type of insulin now, and this is the initial adjustment period for my body to acclimate to it. It's weird, I've been constantly warm the past few years, and all day I've been fucking freezing. I guess that means it's working though. Nice, eh? Fucking shit.
In short, I feel like ass. And I'm really scared I'm gonna lose my toe. It's been numb for a long time, and they said it's gonna be gangrenous soon. I really don't want to start amputations this early in life. Then again, I'm terrified I already killed my liver. And I don't even drink! How's that for good behavior??
I fucking hate America.