May First

May first.  Not feeling so good.  Sleeping sixteen hours a day.  Glucose 423 yesterday morning.  Urine output up by 30%.  Doctor says I’ll wind up in the hospital from dehydration within 3-5 days.  That assumes I call for an ambulance.  Can’t take drugs due to lithium damage to my immune system.  Too late, too late, too late.

N.B.:  By Kristina Paglio, eHow Contributor
High blood sugar, or hyperglycemia, affects multiple aspects of a
person’s health and well-being. Testing by a physician should be done
when persistent symptoms of high blood sugar are present.

Hormones, such as insulin, control the level of glucose in the blood.
Too much sugar in the bloodstream can cause damage to the vessels that
supply blood to vital organs and allow unstable hormone balances to

People with high blood sugar may respond emotionally to their hormone
levels, and may experience strong mood swings.

Strong Emotions
Strong unpleasant emotions can affect both mental stability and hormone
levels. Primary emotions experienced are usually guilt, anger, fear and

Other Symptoms
Accompanying symptoms of high blood sugar can include fatigue, mental
impairment, frequent urination, dehydration and insomnia. In severe
cases, uncorrected high blood sugar can result in coma.

Emotional Effects
Depression can be experienced if high blood sugar is left untreated for
a long period of time and is usually a diabetic condition indicator.

I have an entirely treatable condition but because I followed doctor’s orders and took antidepressants I have been damaged to the point where I cannot take the necessary medications to treat the diabetes.  Let that be a lesson to you.

About annecwoodlen

I am a tenth generation American, descended from a family that has been working a farm that was deeded to us by William Penn. The country has changed around us but we have held true. I stand in my grandmother’s kitchen, look down the valley to her brother’s farm and see my great-great-great-great-great-grandmother Hannah standing on the porch. She is holding the baby, surrounded by four other children, and saying goodbye to her husband and oldest son who are going off to fight in the Revolutionary War. The war is twenty miles away and her husband will die fighting. We are not the Daughters of the American Revolution; we were its mothers. My father, Milton C. Woodlen, got his doctorate from Temple University in the 1940’s when—in his words—“a doctorate still meant something.” He became an education professor at West Chester State Teachers College, where my mother, Elizabeth Hope Copeland, had graduated. My mother raised four girls and one boy, of which I am the middle child. My parents are deceased and my siblings are estranged. My fiancé, Robert H. Dobrow, was a fighter pilot in the Marine Corps. In 1974, his plane crashed, his parachute did not open, and we buried him in a cemetery on Long Island. I could say a great deal about him, or nothing; there is no middle ground. I have loved other men; Bob was my soul mate. The single greatest determinate of who I am and what my life has been is that I inherited my father’s gene for bipolar disorder, type II. Associated with all bipolar disorders is executive dysfunction, a learning disability that interferes with the ability to sort and organize. Despite an I.Q. of 139, I failed twelve subjects and got expelled from high school and prep school. I attended Syracuse University and Onondaga Community College and got an associate’s degree after twenty-five years. I am nothing if not tenacious. Gifted with intelligence, constrained by disability, and compromised by depression, my employment was limited to entry level jobs. Being female in the 1960’s meant that I did office work—billing at the university library, calling out telegrams at Western Union, and filing papers at a law firm. During one decade, I worked at about a hundred different places as a temporary secretary. I worked for hospitals, banks, manufacturers and others, including the county government. I quit the District Attorney’s Office to manage a gas station; it was more honest work. After Bob’s death, I started taking antidepressants. Following doctor’s orders, I took them every day for twenty-six years. During that time, I attempted%2
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