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I'm the kind of person who, no matter how horrible I feel, at least attempts to get out of bed to go to work. It's a philosophy that stems from my childhood when my parents told us that if we weren't barfing and didn't have a fever we were going to school. If we still felt bad after we got there then we could call them and we'd talk.

 

It's a philosophy that has served me well. At least I think so. And I've happily passed this philosophy on to my children. I don't think I'll ever forget the day that No. 1 woke up with an upset stomach and I told him he at least had to try to eat breakfast. Yeah, he barfed. Nice job, Michelle!

 

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Sick days are usually rough when you're trying to manage blood sugars. Whether it's a cold or a stomach bug, the stress, medicine, and unusual food intake can really wreak havoc on controlling levels.

 

Satuday morning, I came down with a stomach virus. This is the second one I've had this year, so I feel like I'm an expert at managing blood sugars when I can't keep anything down for hours.

 

I don't really keep an active sick day plan. I usually just make changes as needed. Being on the pump has made being sick so much easier since I can decrease or increase basals as necessary and prolong boluses just in case I can't keep food down.

 

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Olivia was sick yesterday and today. Of course, my first thought was that it was blood sugar related, but her numbers were ok. Not great, mid-200s, but definitely not puke-inducingly high.

I went down to the store and bought her the standbys of ginger ale, saltines and Pepto Bismol. It seems to have helped - she's feeling better now, although she's still pale as all get out and kind of punky.

I hate how my mind always leaps to blood sugars when she's not feeling good. Sometimes she's just sick. She did tell me that she feels different when she's sick from a high blood sugar - that her stomach feels different and her head feels fuzzy. This time, she just felt nauseous.
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The fun never ends around here. Olivia woke up at three o'clock this morning. She puked on the floor in her room. She puked down the hall way. She puked all over the bathroom. And herself. Poor kid - she was miserable.

Of course, this woke up both little girls - I'm running up and down the stairs, fetching towels and the mop and trying to keep the two babies from yelling the house down. Boo calmed down quickly and went back to sleep. The Bug, who is The World's Lousiest Sleeper (TM), was up, but quiet. And here I am, in my t-shirt, freezing, mopping the floors. Fun.

Olivia showered as I schlepped the puked-upon clothing and towels down to the cellar. Back upstairs again to get her into bed, with the puke bowl. A quick blood sugar check - she was 199, which I didn't correct, given the amount she threw up - and we both went back to bed.
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A coworker stumbles through the business doors red nosed and tissues in hand. Another coughs from the back room, jostling between customers and the sink to wash up her hands. The signs of a sickly winter world suddenly blare like sirens in my ears. It is all I can think of. My lips tighten like a drawbridge keeping out invaders. My general stance shifts away from the cues of infection. I consciously try to avoid contact at all costs. To no avail....

 

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Some freaky viral sickness has infected our house. It started with No. 2 who had a terrible fever over Memorial Day weekend. Several days after she got better, The Mr. came down with it. Now, No. 1 is on the tail end of it, but sadly he will miss his last three days of third grade because of this stupid flu-like virus.

 

I've often said that while I don't want to see my children sick, it's better for a well mom to take care of sick kids than for a sick mom to take care of well kids. That's up for debate, especially since my kids are getting to the point where they're fairly self-sufficient and if I were laid out on the couch No. 1 and No. 2 would be able to take care of No. 3. (I should say that The Mr. isn't a slacker, he works two of every three weekends, so when I'm home alone with the kids it's usually because The Mr. is working.)

 

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I have never been a big fan of the heat.

 

And no, I'm not referring to the NBA team in Miami with whom Lebron James is going to be playing basketball. Unlike many other people I know, I couldn't care less about that.

 

I'm referring to the sweltering high temperatures and humidity that come with the summer months. They make me sick. Literally!

 

For as long as I can remember, even before I was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes and congestive heart failure, I’ve had problems with being out in the sun and heat for very long. Even short periods of exposure to the heat have the tendency to leave me feeling pretty bad at times. And when that does happen, I’m usually left extremely tired and weak, with aches and pains throughout my body, and completely soaked in sweat. All of which are symptoms of a condition called heat exhaustion.

 

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I am still not feeling quite right. My stomach is upset off and on. And since Sunday, I've had an almost constant feeling of emptiness or irritation inside my abdomen. Eating is not on my list of likes at the moment. Neither is diabetes.

 

With not eating normal meals plus the stress of my three interviews, I've changed my insulin some. Mainly, I've skipped or lessened some of what I'm taking to avoid lows or the feeling of being low even when I'm 200. I finally dropped below 200 yesterday, yet bounced back to 300 this morning.

 

I am quite sick. Of this stomach thing. Of high blood sugars. Of taking insulin. I am quite sick of living on a regimen or feeling so dependent on what my body decides to do with my day. I am quite sick of how diabetes and nausea and malaise run my life.

 

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I have a sore throat.   And I feel something, like a cold, coming.  I'm hot in a room that's not hot, clammy, and I'm tired.

 

I went to the gym today anyhow, all sneezy and gross.  If I'd been another gym-goer, I would have been annoyed with someone like me.  Someone spreading their germs while getting their 45 minutes of cardio and 15 minutes of weight training.

 

The truth is, I don't get sick all that often.  I have little threats of a cold coming or a belly ache threatening, but I usually fend it off with rest, a day home from work to sleep, water, and a little bit of cold or stomach calming medicine. 

 

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I left work early today.  I never ever do that. 

 

But 3 hours into my day, I felt just plain awful.  Headachey, exhausted awful.  I was running a temperature too - right around 100 degrees - which is even higher for me than a normal person because my temp typically runs in the high 96s/low 97s.  So I left work and came home.  And I went to bed at noon.  I slept for 11 hours.  I can't remember the last time I did that. 

 

Now, I'm awake, but I don't think for long.  I'm exhausted still and heading back to bed in a short while.  

 

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