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I'm feeling like utter garbage. I need to go see my doctor, at the very least. Ketones, low blood pressure, heads all swimmy and I'm having a hard time catching my breath. I'm not going to update my blog, because I can't do that from my telephone. Going to add a twitter thing.. so anything about me will just tweet. Kids are still feeling miserable as well, but I need to avoid ketoacidosis and I'm failing at doing that right now.

"I'd not trade places with her tonight'

This was said by a fellow harlot tonight, and I guess I felt I need to elaborate. I adore my life, it's amazing. I have the best children, the most amazing husband, siblings, friends. I experience love in such vast quantities every day that my heart is open to any and all forms, I would not trade lives with ANYONE ever. Because guess what, my monitors, my Iv pump, my animas (insulin pump), the twice a day bp checks, the oxygen. All of that is so smallcompared to my family, and my memories of them. Even my childhood, riddled with screaming, fighting, abuse, I still consider a valuable part of my make up. I identify myself with the memories and love I've experienced, with the days I wake up and smile at my children. The feeling of my hands in my horses hair, the warmth of my SO as he lays behind me. Jens hand on my back, her smile. The sound of L, Ry and Mir laughing the look on their faces, no matter what. The funny things they say.

All of that, makes everything else.. so.. so insubstantial. I wrote on the 4th of july, after watching fireworks with my family, on the grass, holding my son "This is amazing, I'm so happy I am alive" 4 days later I would pass out, fall down the stairs and break 5 ribs, concusion.. 7 days after that they'd remove the lower lobe of my right lung. Then my pericardium. When I wrote that on my facebook, I didn't know all of that was soon to enter into my life. I spent days on a ventilator, woke up weak and in pain. Again. Yet you know what I keep in my mind about july, "This is amazing, I'm so happy I am alive." Even after all of that, I was still happy to be alive.

Someone said on hummus today that they'd not trade places with a certain unpleasant mommy blogger (see previous post) /tonight/ even if they where the slitheriest snake in the forest. After thinking on that I decided, I don't care who she is, or what she's going through, or what I'm going through at the time. I'd never trade places with her, because this is my life. I love it. I don't want any other existence that changes anything. I have so much, the bad things, the pain. All of that doesn't matter. I like my life, I'm sorry for others pain but even in my darkest of hour. You can't have it. I don't want you to.

(Also)- We're all sick, I'm doing alright so far. My kidney function has decreased, and I've been pretty sick with some sorta respiratory, throat, nausea mix. My kids have it too, we're just trudging through. My neck hurts due to a large bruise, I'm dizzy and a tad out of touch. Blood glucose is high, I currently have large ketones in my blood as well. L had ketones and has been running a high glucose due to virus (I'm guessing here). The last chest x-ray looked good, I'm slowly improving with the cocci. Fewer symptoms of the cocci recently as well, the meds still making me sick, and tpn has also started making me ill. Just taking a breath, and keeping myself going.

"If you're going through hell, keep going"

Automatic..

Amazing how many actions are automatic, every morning I open my eyes, yawn curl around myself. Still the throes of sleep I reach to my bedside table and grab my blood glucose meter, pushing down the button on my accu check compact, I listen to the sound of the drum turning and spitting out a strip, while randomly and swiftly pressing my finger against the lancing device. I listen to the stapler like clicks, and feel the small prick. Pushing the blood onto the strip I don't think, my mind still so full of sleep I probably could go straight back to sleep and forget I ever tested. Waiting for the beep I pry my eyelids open and stare at the number, knowing fully it sets the tone for my day, 104, 158, 192, 92, 83, 120, 144.. all those numbers are music to my eyes, anything between about 70-230.. even a little high, is ok for my day start. Or a tiny bit low. Somedays I wake up, and am 32, shaking like crazy and feeling so tired I wonder why I even tested. Patterned into testing I rarely question the action, if just is. That's life, that's just what I have to do. But recently other things have become automatic, like taking drugs every few hours.. I fight constantly to keep myself from automating certain processes because if for one second I feel that this is normal, I fear something in me will snap and die a painful death.

So this morning, laying in bed post test (btw my BG upon waking was 330.. not so great) I pull my blue animas ping insulin pump out from under the covers and dial in the appropriate units for bolus. Staring at the ceiling I listen to A come into the room, me in the classic "covers over the head, leave me alone I'm dying it's so early" pose. Hanging the 2000ML bag of TPN, he reached beneath the covers, pulling them aside so he can see my chest, wiping one lumen, opening the little clip and flushing one with saline, then heparin.. then the next, until he gets to the one in use and the small end is screwed in. Hooked up for the day I let myself go back to sleep. Less than five minutes later I sat up and started to cry, because that was so automatic.. so normal. I wanted to scream, to scream and get upset and have someone come quick to hear me yell and throw a fit because I didn't want this! NO! Go back! STOP! This isn't right, he shouldn't have to do this, he shouldn't have done it so smoothly, I shouldn't be so calm. I curled up, and realized how I am actively fighting my new normal. I don't want a new normal, I want my old normal back. I don't want to be on oxygen, I don't want my husband hooking me up to an IV pump.. I hate this more every second. I truely believe somethings should never become normal, even if that would make it easier. I don't want to consider this normal.. I want it to be significant.