Ive been out of commission for 4 days. I had a dissociative episode on Sunday night. I couldn’t walk, couldn’t talk, didn’t know where I was. The paramedics came into my room asking a bunch of questions like ‘Who I am’ and ‘Where do I work?’ The typical things they try to catch you on. I didn’t give them anything. I asked them “What the hell are you doing in my room?” They dragged me out and took me to the hospital.
Got some blood work done. Everything looks immaculate. Just kidding. I have high blood sugar and my CO2 count is high? Whatever than means. Maybe that explains the brain fog and anxious thoughts. The blood sugar is weird because I’m in excellent shape and eat a mostly clean diet. I haven’t sweat since Saturday, except in my sleep.
I have no energy. I am being waited on hand and foot by my parents like I’m a toddler again. In a way its kind of nice being treated like an infant. On the other hand I feel like I’m taking up space. I’m 23, not 6. I appreciate them, nonetheless. It wasn’t easy for them.
I’ve never been this bloated. All I’ve eaten is PB&J and ice cream. While I’m certainly not complaining about my delicious intake, I feel like shit. I need to move. I have a 10 miler scheduled for this upcoming Sunday. I ran the same one last year hungover. It was one of my best times. Lets see how I do this time when the sickness isn’t self-inflicted.
I’ll keep you posted, stay tuned all.
PJ 