I feel crummy.

Headache:  foggy and achy, wanting nothing more than to just hold my head in my hands, occasionally mussing up my ponytail.   Stomach:  apparently doing flips inside mWhah whah whah.y body, refusing to accept more than a spoonful of oatmeal at a time.  Temperature:  I haven’t taken it yet but I’m pretty sure I have a little fever because my skin is horrified to have my clothes near it.  Every brush of my sleeve against my arm makes my skin scream.  Bloodsugars:   at a jolly old 155 mg/dl, but my insulin:carb ratios are through the roof this morning.  My oatmeal, which is usually covered by 2 units of insulin, was countered with 5 units this morning.  Last night’s sugars, however, were content to hover around 300 mg/dl.  Ketones:  none.  Thirst level:  extreme.  I could drink a horse.*  General mood:  whiny.  Seriously whiny.  The kind of mood that makes me want to go home and flounce around the house, eating popsicles and napping on the couch and enjoying the furry company of one little, gray Siah cat.  Miserable, pouting Kerri.


*  “I’m so thirsty, I could drink a horse,” doesn’t make nearly the amount of sense that “I’m so hungry, I could eat a horse,” makes.  Although the “eat a horse” expression is ridiculous on its own.  Whatever.  I’m at a feverish loss.  This is the best I can come up with this morning.