A Perpetual Fog...

Blah....that's what I feel like....just blah.

A better description might be that I feel incredibly hung over--blurry vision, headache, dizzy, can't concentrate, nauseated--but missed out on the "good time" that normally preceeds that particular state of being. And since I'm banned from any and all alcohol consumption, I guess I won't be experiencing the highs associated with the "party in a bottle" effect ever again. Drat....that stinks. I was never much of a consumer to begin with, but it would be nice to have a more temporary condition in which a fun high preceeds the dismal low. That way, at least, I could blame feeling sick on having a really rockin' good time and incredibly poor judgment. ;)

Moving towards a more serious note, we don't have an endocrinologist here in Misawa, so the Internal Medicine doc and I have been playing around with various medications, trying to see what works and what doesn't. It's been a painful process....quite literally. Flu-like symptoms with the occasional hypoglycemic crash has left me feeling very weak and EXTREMELY muddled. Thirty minutes ago, two Navy chiefs just stopped by to ask me about the neighborhood and I can't recall our conversation beyond "pig farm" (there's one nearby) and "high heating bill" despite the fact that they were here for 20 minutes. It's frustrating. Normally I try to be pretty articulate, but chaining a series of related thoughts together and expressing them to others in conversation is definitely hard right now. I'm sure those two chiefs left my home thinking, "What the heck has the smell from the pig farm got to do with increasing winter heating costs?" You know...I don't know. I'll get back to you on that.

The good news is (yes, I'm determined not allow negativity to completely preside over my current emotional state) is that my blood sugar levels have dropped dramatically. Beginning over 500 (extremely dangerous) and battling in the 200-300 for over a week (really not good), I've managed to pull them down to average in the mid to low 100s. I've even had a few reports of 70 after long cardio sessions on Screech, my stationary bike. Yes...I named him. Since we're certain to become life-long companions, I thought it most appropriate. And No...he's not named "screech" for the sound he makes as I pedal furiously no where, but the sound Noah makes everytime I go anywhere near him. They say 9 months old is the beginning of separation anxiety for babies.

I believe it.

~Amanda