Right.

One of the most famous sequences in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas revolves around Raoul Duke reassembling events from the ruins of his hotel room and some garbled, incomprehensible audio tapes. This felt like that. If there had been a tape recording, it would have included me waking my animal from her place on the floor by screaming in my sleep, and my animal trying to get me to eat a glucotab, and pouring soda into my mouth, trying to get me to look at her, to come back. When I finally opened my eyes, there was a can of Coke on the dresser, along with about a dozen bloody finger sticks. I was soaked, the bed was utterly sodden, black with sweat. There were two total strangers in my bedroom.

It was ten after four in the AM.

“Am I dreaming this? Who are these guys? What are they talking about? They seem nice, but they seem concerned about something…”

I saw the look on my animal’s face, and things started making more sense. She was talking to the EMT’s. She looked upset. And I was wet. All over. My eyes started to focus, and I staretd to get some idea of what was going on. The EMT’s were in my bedroom. Working on me. This was not good.

I had gone to bed about midnight, after an 11 hour stretch at work. Work had been tough, and tricky on the blood sugar. I felt like hell. Then- nothing, until I saw the EMT’s.

This has never happened to me before. The EMT’s told me that was pretty amazing, but I know why- it’s because I am trying to keep my blood sugar down now, so I am living much closer to the danger zone, which is much scarier than I ever knew.

I’m here. I’m alive. I’m fine.

I’m looking for a job that won’t make me sick. I have a friend I can forward my resume to, she has a friend who is interested. This morning when my animal asked me to describe how I felt, I told her that I felt like I had eaten poison- that all of me hurt, in a horrible, unspecified way. That feeling has passed, leaving me exhausted and sore, but OK. The bed is still wet- it looks like someone dumped a full trashcan of water over it, but it’s drying.

Tomorrow I go back to work.

Comments

13 responses to “Right.”

  1. I didn’t know you were diabetic.
    Not good… I’m glad your animal was there to call the EMTs and get you help.

  2. Good thing your animal was there. I have had my eyes opened for you too, Ill let you know if I hear of any positions. Take care of yourself ๐Ÿ™‚

  3. Sir, we just got home and read your post. It’s too late to call you right now. Daddy says, “Please be careful. We worry.” That goes for me too, favorite Uncle Sir. (kate, writing on David’s account)

  4. I’m so glad you’re all right, and that you were well taken care of. It really is time to find a job that lets you take better care of yourself. What an awful experience, for both of you. Hope you’re feeling entirely back to yourself soon.

  5. I’m glad you’re ok, thats a scary thing, and I’ve been in similar places with my asthma.

    don’t die on us now, who’s gonna hold the gavel? ๐Ÿ˜‰

    but seriously, be careful.

  6. My friend J is IDD and has had this same thing happen (though not to that extent) a few times in the middle of the night. It usually seems stress related.

    Amazing what stress can do to our bodies.

    I’m so thankful you’re okay.

  7. Im glad to hear that you’re alright… hopefully luck with different jobs will come along and things will be less stressful. until then, please be careful.

  8. I’m glad you are okay. Definitely sounds frightening. I’m glad your animal was there however to be able to call the EMTs to get you help.