It was sort of amusing to go grocery shopping yesterday. Most of my life I have tried to make healthy choices. Ever since the “nurse of death” got disgusted with me for continuing to take vitamins, I have been pondering all the consequences. I wanted to make sure there really was little chance I could survive before I ditched healthy practices. I have about 2 weeks of vitamins left.
While wheeling around, choosing foods to buy, I went for my usual oat bread. It felt awfully stiff. I squeezed the buttermilk bread next to it and guiltily chose that because it was softer 🙂 I remember when I bought a loaf of potato bread each month for 3 months, a year or two ago. I felt guilty then for choosing softness over nutrition. But….I like pb&j sandwiches better on squishy white bread. I will blame it on the way I grew up 🙂
I am always finding reasons to feel guilty! The latest is that I will die and waste food. Geeze! Stop it! And…standing for 2 whole minutes means that my breathing is cut off. Because I am sensible…despite my guilt….I bought a box of frozen biscuit, egg and sausage sandwiches. Breakfast after nuking for 2 minutes 🙂 Of course, I still feel guilty for buying pre-made junk food 😛
Olive had been on her little table, having her morning treat of a quarter of a can of cat food…when she was irresistibly drawn to the microwave to watch my breakfast sandwich go in circles. I took pics of her intently staring as the food nuked. She turned around and gave me “the look” when the camera’s flash went off….then she calmly turned again and kept watching. I realized that the pics I took included both the white bread and fast food 😛
Dang! The new high dose of steroids has blasted my blood sugar into outer space. Yesterday I shot up three times the recommended insulin and still had a 278 reading. Just before the increase, I was so proud of myself for keeping it on target. My personality has not changed. I still want the best grades! Nobody is tougher on me than me.
It has been a long day….many friends came to visit. I realized that I was breathing using my shoulders. All that talking took a lot of air! My clavicles in the front and shoulder blades in the back were doing an awful lot of work. While my shrink was here, I remembered to Google that. Yup…it’s a thing. I wonder why I never thought to look it up before….or even put it into words? Duh!!! It’s my body’s way of coping with a trashed diaphragm. MG is a neuromuscular disease (NMD). Read this about shallow breathing.
It was fun to have visitors 🙂 No matter how hard it is to talk…I cannot shut up. I started off the public part of my day by going to the office to pay my rent. I told the manager I hoped it was my last rent check ever. The maintenance man and the 2 office women and I had a long talk about my imminent demise. The maintenance guy and I often joked around while the 2 women looked a bit shell-shocked.
The the Relief Society president came with Travis, my home teacher. I enjoyed having them here 🙂 I always feel happy when they are around 🙂
Then it was time for my shrink. He filled out a short form about vital info/last wishes stuff. I’m grateful I met him. I went right to the mental health folks a couple of years ago when the idiot neuro tried to label me with Munchausen’s and then conversion disorder. The neuros I saw at the U would do anything for money…except care for MG patients. I hope God has a special re-education camp for people like them. The horror stories are many 😦 Dan helped keep me sane while I was dealing with idiots.
Thank goodness for my internist and the nearby clinic who have prescribed my MG meds and taken care of me in the absence of a neuro.
This was the wound this morning.
And now? I am wiped out tired. My intestines are trying to push free of my belly. Sometimes it feels a lot like being in labor 😮 It sends waves of cramps across my hernia and then some. All day, the ulceration has been goobering. Lot’s of clear fluid comes out. I’m still waiting for the alien to leap out.
I thought these pics were interesting to show the stretch marks, bruising and the way one part of the hernia is like a beach ball.
I think the bruising is from the intestines pushing from the inside. They are on the bottom of the hernia, at a place that cannot be bumped. When Heather was in there, it felt like she was playing soccer. I had the same sort of bruising. It is sooooo not easy to lift the hernia up enough to see the ulceration. It takes a lot of strength and leaves me severely SOB. Sometimes my heart beats so hard and fast that it feels like it is going to blow up.
This is what makes my denial issues come and go. Some moments, death feels on the doorstep. Then when I sit quietly, don’t talk, stay cool…it feels less sure. I am so glad it’s not up to me to decide when the end will come!