My brush with death.
This is a serious post although just how serious may not be properly conveyed by my sloppy writing.
I'm back from hospital where I suffered Diabetic Ketoacidosis.
For about 2 months I had stopped taking my humualog insulin as I believe the insulin, that type, had been poisoned, messed with as I had suddenly got allergic reactions to it. I'd been on it goodness know how long but suddenly there was huge stinging that would make anyone cry out. It would last up to a minute and I was in agony. So I stopped. I didn't consult my diabetic nurse or doctor. And thought nothing of it.
However the other day, the brilliant pharmacist in Halstead just asked as I was there with mum if I needed any more pens and I said no and why. Her words to me were "check your blood sugar" and she gave me test strips.
I took them, went back. Thinking nothing of it at the time, but I decided to check and my sugar level was 30.1 I kept an eye on it through the night though by 1or 2 am I realised my mouth had been dry for hours to the point where I'd sipped so much liquids it was around 6 litres.
Something was wrong, and my levels were increasing. So I thought I would call 111 for advice on how to decrease the levels and after 2 people saying I needed an ambulance and my refusals, the third person, a doctor, said I had no choice and insisted an ambulance was going to come. The paramedics were great. My blood pressure was "way above 100 and that's enough to take you in, anyway". And that its urgent I go. So I had no choice but to go, still thinking they were doing this for no big deal, I mean, it's just me, right?
But as it turns out my levels kept going up and my thirst was extreme. I couldn't talk without taking water first as it was like a desert in my mouth.
I've been told I probably may not have made it through the night if I hadn't called, or as I see it, if the pharmacist hadn't told me to check my levels.
So for that, thank you Maria for helping to save my life.
I'm on a new pen with new insulin now. I did it myself for the first time this morning, unfortunately it still stings but not half as bad as humualog so I will deal with it.
My lovely friends, the point is, I had no idea what I was doing to myself.
Even recently if you had asked me "what type of diabetic are you?" I would have replied "Type 2, but only a minor case". I wouldn't have believed anyone, not even a doctor, that I was killing myself by stopping a pen that I thought was killing me.
I feel very grateful to be writing this today, silly of course that it had come to it by my own stupidity and stubbornness, but I pulled through. I have to take it easy next few days, but I'll be fine.
Below is a song I thought of while I was spending ages in Resus where they pumped up to 8 litres of liquid onto me to bring the levels down. Most of the staff if that ward were brilliant, and the paramedics were amazing and I thank them all for helping me, same to 111 staff for being so amazing, And a doctor at the surgery who went through red tape just to help me. Thank you, sir.
I talk about mental illness a lot, but not my physical illnesses. Because to me my mental illness is more prevalent in my mind. Now I've got to see my physical side needs its loving, too.
Wow, I always assumed I would die by my own hands but by purpose, not by mistake.
Showed me even more how precious life is. And so is yours. So be careful, and don't leave things, physical or mental, just because you can. Survive. We have to.