I’m sick. Again? Still? Your guess is as good as mine. My temperature goes up, then it goes down and I think it’s over. Then my temperature goes up again. It’s frustrating. It’s maddening. It’s a little bit scary.
The initial fear, after getting the results of blood work that showed infection and inflammation, was that I had osteomyelitis (bone infection) where my lower left leg was amputated. I saw the surgeon last Friday, who took x-rays and said he didn’t see anything. We’ll repeat the x-rays in another week or so.
Unlike when this whole thing started a few weeks ago and my blood glucose wanted to hover in the 300s and 400s, it’s now wanting to stay in the 50s and 60s. Or lower. Gotta love diabetes. It’s never dull.
After raising my basal rates in the beginning, I’m now lowering them as fast as I can. In the meantime, I’m sipping on OJ spritzers — half orange juice, half sugar-free lemon-lime soda. On the rocks. It seems to hold my glucose somewhat steady while I readjust my basal rates.
Of course, I’m well aware that just as soon as I get my basal rates set just right again…something is going to change and I’ll need to adjust them again. What, oh what would I do without diabetes to keep my mind occupied?
I don’t feel much like eating, either. Fresh fruit, ice cream, baked potatoes, salad, and frozen juice pops are about all that interest me. I’ve found that ice cream makes a marvelous breakfast. I may even have to continue that when I get better (and let it be soon!).
What do you like least about being sick? I don’t like hanging out in bed, but that’s all I want to do. After a while, my back begins to hurt and my knees don’t want to get comfortable.
On top of that, Frank the cat thinks he has to keep me company. Well, truthfully, it’s his chance to cuddle, since I don’t have the energy to throw him out. He snuggles right up against me and fusses until I put my arm around him. If I get tired of cat in my face and turn over, he walks across my body and curls up on my other side.
Some people have teddy bears. I have the world’s largest cat. Bigger than Garfield. I call him Frankencat.
OK. I’ve been up for about an hour now and it’s time to hit the sheets again. If I’m lucky, I can make it into the bedroom before Frank realizes I’ve moved from the den.
