Hospital Horrors

The bullet hit me just below my rib cage, punching out a huge section of my liver and collapsing my right lung. Waves of pain rippled round my chest like a stone thrown in a still pond or echoes reverberating off sandstone cliffs.I gasped for breath but could find none. I tried to scream but had no voice.I rolled onto my back, clutching the entry wound with both hands, felt the wet, blood-soaked T-shirt beneath my fingers, sodden and cold.Wait… A bizarre fact flickered across my consciousness. The temperature of the human body is 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit. The blood spilling from my torn abdomen should be warm—not cold.I blink upwards in the near-dark room. Where am I? What happened? Who shot me? Why?Wait a minute… Who am I?An angry buzz, like a pissed-off cockroach. A light. What the f.? I turn my head to the side. A glowing screen on a box. It says, “High-200.” Wait. I know what that is. It’s a CGM. It’s telling me my blood sugar is high. The blood spilling from me? No… It’s cold, it can’t be blood.Chilly blue light spills from a bedside clock. Fighting waves of pain, I sit up, reach for the reading light and turn it on. My T-shirt is soaked and dark. But not with blood. With sweat.I yank it up over my head. My chest and stomach glisten with a thousand dewdrops of sweat, but the skin is intact. I have not been shot.Was it a crazy dream?Another wave of pain ripples through my body. Not shot. But not a dream. Something is wrong. Desperately wrong.I’m suppo...
Source: LifeAfterDx--The Guardian Chronicles - Category: Diabetes Authors: Source Type: blogs