This is the view from my room in the Hull Hospital Emergency ward where I spent a little over 12 hours earlier this week. (See my feet?)
You see my blood sugar was rising so high at dinner time the read out I was getting on my doo-flicky wasn't even a number. All it said was "Hi". So after a consultation with my pharmacist it was off to Emergency about 8:30 Monday evening.
12 and a half hours and 30 units of insulin later they let me go.
Not a moment too soon.
Why do they call it emergency? That word to me conjures up something a little quicker.
They should call it something like Emergency, Not.
Needless to say, when I got out my blood sugar wasn't rising anymore.
But my anxiety was.
The lengths I go to for this challenge.
Nip on over to Ziva's where she's probably got a picture of a cake or something else I can't eat.