Feeling Forty-Four

The dreams are always so vivid. I usually don't remember them clearly, but in the moments when I realize I am awake - I am WIDE awake - and I remember my dream. This one was my own personal House, MD episode... I love Hugh Laurie, and House, MD is one of my favorite TV programs. So in my episode, I dreamed about the relationship between Cuddy and House - always threaded with an undercurrent of sexual tension. Appropriate, since I am still hung up on the most recent "inappropriate" guy - I can relate to the tension. The story line was very convoluted, but the jist was that it turned out that Cuddy and House actually had four children together; children that made it to adulthood but somehow, all ended up dead. Appropriate, since I tend to contemplate a lot on death and dying.

I remember thinking: I need to be careful getting out of bed. My thoughts tend to go verrrrrry slooooow when my blood sugar drops; it's funny, because it's exactly that - the speed of my thinking - that clues me into something being wrong. I know I have to test my blood sugar, but it's more important about getting over to my laptop so I can blog about this experience. It's my mission and compulsion: sharing my innermost thoughts and feelings with the world - it's my connection, my addiction. It's my savior. It keeps me tied to reality. It keeps me from floating out in space. It keeps me from floating away.

The other thing I always notice is that I can only think about one thought at a time. This is definately a departure from normalcy, because normally my brain can hold about fifty thoughts at a time - and I am actively thinking about half of those thoughts simultaneously. I get myself out of bed. I have to go pee, so I head over to the bathroom to take care of business. My dogs - always attentive to my every move - follow me. Winnie, the boxer, comes all the way into the bathroom and sits by the tub, watching me. This is unusual - I tend to think the bathroom scares her, because she rarely walks in like that; usually waits just outside the door... it makes me think that her doggie sense is telling her that something is off. I love Winnie... I'm glad she's been here with me. She was here when the Bunny was here, and she kept me from being lonely right after he left.

My laptop! Oh yes, I remember. I make a left out of my room, and I walk through the laundry room on my way to my office. "I need to do some laundry" - this random thought pops into my head, and immediately my body complies. I turn back around and head into the bathroom where I had a pile of whites piling up... I grab them, throw them into the washer, add some detergent, and turn the machine on. I have to get to my laptop... but wait! I really should test my blood sugar first.

I grab my medical stuff (cleverly disguised - I keep it in a makeup bag that I carry around with me - it just looks like a "girly-girl" thing rather than a "sick person" thing), and I pull out the machine that conducts the test. It takes a little bit of brain power here, and I start to cry. Low blood sugar always puts me really close to my emotional triggers... I'm not sure what makes me cry; I can't even assign any thoughts to it - it's purely feeling, it's undiluted emotion. I can't think... I can only feel, like a blind person feels heat from the sun. You don't know why you feel it, or what's causing it - you just get warm.

After an eternity, the machine beeps at me. Yup, my blood sugar is low. "Zero" means dead, and the number that's displayed is only in the double-digits. An intelligent, coherent person would probably stop everything she was doing and go drink a glass of juice, make a piece of toast, have a banana. But right now, I am neither. I'm on a mission. Where's that damn laptop? I need people to know. I need people to understand. I need to write.

And when I can finally get these thoughts out of my head... then, THEN it's time to eat. My second favorite activity.