Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Sprinting short distances

No, I'm not really training for a 5K, but much like Gimli the dwarf I am dangerous at short distance.

If you're standing between me and the bathroom?  MOVE.  Just freakin' move.  No questions, no explaination, just get the hell out of my way. OK?

During the first month of treatment I really thought things were going well, stupid naive fool.  a month ago my big problem was that my 12 hour fasting sugar was all over the map.  Even eating exactly the same thing at exactly the same time, my morning could start out at 89, or it could start out at 128.


Of those were the days.

Starting at right about a month ago I started to experience frequent diarrhea.  Now when I say frequent I mean 4-6 times a day, generally in the late afternoon/evening/night time.   In my life?  That's manageable.  Not pleasant, doesn't help a single girl's social life (don't laugh, picking up my mail DOES TOO equal a social life) but I can cope with this.

Oh but oh....could fate leave me there?  Oh Hell To The No.  Life and I have had a long time understanding.  More is more, pile the stress on man, I's gots me some broad shoulders....

So....she did.

After a couple of weeks of this the doctor said to drop the Metformin from 2000 a day to 1500.  A week goes by and no change, in fact it's getting worse.

Another week and we drop to 1000 a day.  About 5 days later I am really getting weak, so last week we dropped to just 500 mg a day.  That was...I think....Tuesday?

By Friday I had to apologize to a caller, throw the phone at my co-hort and bolt only as fast as an old woman with a ruptured disc can the office potty.  I would say that was about my 5th trip to the Little Secretary Room that morning.  Once I emerged I had to go home.  In pain, weak, shaky, and quite possibly uncouriously aromatic.  I drove the 9/10s of a mile and the miracle of the day is that I did not break the speed limit laws.

I did take a hot bath, a couple doses of Imodium and laid down for about an hour, and then returned to work.  There was just too much undone on my desk.  I returned home at 5:00 and spent the entire evening on into the night repenting of all my sins, and begging for forgiveness.  I would have made a deal with Crowley at this point...screw Sam and Dean.

Saturday morning dawns and the morning isn't so bad, but the afternoon is a repeat of Friday and by 11:00 Saturday night I decide a trip to the ER must happen.  At this point bright yellow ectoplasma is blasting forth from my mere human body every 3-5 minutes, my hemmoroids have become body-adjacent, and I have not been able to leave the bathroom for about 6 hours.  A lull finally hit, I thought I might have a little time so I spray my entire being down with Febreeze and make my way to the front door, across the decks and begin to descend the steps....I have a 45 minute drive in front of me...I'm gonna be fine....

But I'm not.

I had an out of body experience.

And I don't mean in the soul floating over my limp body way....I mean....ectoplasma everywhere.

I turned around and and returned to the safety and security of my home.  Saturday night I ended up sleeping in the bathroom, sitting in the obviously place and resting my head on the sink, thanks to a pile of pillows.  Somewhere around dawn, shakey and fairly certain I've blacked out a few times I literally crawled to the recliner and wept.

I had consumed a half bottle of Imodium on Friday, the other half on Saturday, so Sunday was better, but not by much.   My daughter was able to make a mercy trip from Iowa City where she lives and bring me another bottle Sunday after with the return of the night, I took my spot back in the powder room and dutifully took my dosages until another bottle was gone.

Monday dawned, the obligatory call to the doctor's office.  She says, just quit taking the Metformin.  I hadn't had it for two days to be honest with you.....but my more frequent blood testing is continue to show me well under the 120 mark.  Her advice is to stop it for at least a week, or until the diarrhea stops and then start back again and see if it happens again.  I had to stay home Monday, too weak to walk and too befuddled to think straight.  Now going on nearly 3 days with no real food intake...I just needed to sleep, but fearful I would go to sleep and not wake up, I slept in the recliner and set my phone to ping every hour or so and checked in with online friends to ease my fear.

So here is where I be really honest.  I cannot live like this.  If I go back on the Metformin and have this reaction again then I will stop it again, and I won't restart.  I'll eat nothing but vegetables, and accept a life shortened, even dramatically by this disease....but I do not have the ability to just quit my job and stay home and crap all day.  Nor would I want to...LOL

I have looked to other diabetics, and the doctor's office for advice and support, any suggestions or ideas of things to do to lessen this side-effect and for the most part I hear "get used to it" or worse yet "it took 3 years for my meds to be right".  I don't have that kind of time.  I won't survive 3 years like this.

So here we are Wednesday~~~ solid food sill isn't tolerated, and according to the scale...I am down 7 pounds this week.....but I refuse to believe that weight will stay off.  Once I can eat a serving of food that doesn't shoot thru me like a greezed goose shit.....I know my body, it will grab those calories, multiply them by pi and I'll balloon up 20 pounds overnight.

Now, don't feel like you have to reply, or feel bad, or be grossed out.  This is more of a chronicle for myself so I can (hopefully) someday look back and remember the road I've traveled.