The Post That Never Happened (& Why)

So July 1st was going to be a day that I wrote a big old post congratulating everyone that participated in the June No Sugar Challenge. It was going to be a really good post full of all the hoots, hollers, and yehaws that any person should expect after going a full month without sugar. Unfortunately, when July 1st rolled around I wasn’t thinking about blogging. I pretty much wasn’t doing much thinking at all. I was focused on one thing and one thing only (no, Brittany, it wasn’t that you were turning 30). The object of my focus: The porcelain throne, aka: the john, the potty, the toilet, the latrine, the loo, the can….you get the idea. When I wasn’t paying homage to the great porcelain god in one form or another, I was writhing (always wanted to use that word) in pain on the floor in the hallway immediately outside the door of said bathroom (couldn’t get to far away, you know.) After spending most of the morning in the above manner, I began to notice that my arms from my elbows down were all tingly—kind of like they had been asleep and were waking up. I decided that lying on the hard floor was having adverse effects on me (I am over 30 after all), so I dragged (drug?) myself up to my bed. After sleeping off and on and visiting the bathroom another couple of times over the next hour or so, I found that not only had the tingling in my arms spread all the way up to my shoulders and increased in intensity, but my legs from my knees down were now tingly. At this point, I started to feel some concern. I imagined that it was caused from dehydration. And since a certain ‘visitor’ had showed up the day before, I wondered if my blood pressure and such was being affected as well. Still, it wasn’t until the buzz moved up to my hips that I decided it might be a good idea to go to a doctor. And of course by that time it was 9:00pm and pretty much our only option was the ER. Lovely, our favorite place. So we called the in-laws and asked if we could drop off the kids for an impromptu sleepover, packed everything up, and headed out. The in-laws live close to Alta View Hospital over in Sandy, so even though there are now 2.5 hospitals closer, we headed that way. It’s about a 20-25 minute drive that way, and about 15 minutes into it, I started to hurt real bad. We called the in-laws and asked them to meet us at the hospital instead. And I started to cry (yes, I cried. Get over it.) Suddenly, things went from bad to worse. My arms and legs went from just being tingly to losing complete feeling and control in them. My fingers stuck straight out and I couldn’t bend them. I could barely lift my arms and couldn’t feel my legs or feet at all. That’s about the time I started to panic. And then when my chest went numb and my forehead started going tingly and I couldn’t focus my eyes, and I might have been heard to say, “B., I think my whole body is shutting down.”….Well, let’s just say that the trip to the hospital didn’t take 20 minutes, and that we really appreciate all the wide shoulders on the sides of the roads that Sandy City provided for us. At the hospital, B. pulled up to the ER door. I couldn’t undo my seatbelt, open my door, or walk. So B. picked my up in a fireman’s hold and carried me in (even as out of it as I was, I was very impressed.) The kids were asleep so—we left them in the car—Shhh! Don’t tell anyone! (Please don’t arrest us, Dustin!) B. carried me in and yelled to the Triage nurse that I couldn’t feel my arms or legs. At the same time, I half-coherently moan, “Help me!” (It was very dramatic, I assure you.) The nurse looks at us, then passively says, “I’ll call a tech.” A person that was with a patient that was being checked in at Triage jumps up and helps B find a wheelchair (hello? Where are all the medical personnel that should have been doing that? It was not at all like all the hospital shows…come on people!) The tech comes and he and the nurse spend what seemed like forever trying to decide what room to put me in ('Put her in room 25.' 'There’s someone in room 25.' 'Oh, there is? Okay, put her in Room 22.') So the tech finally wheels me back to a room (B. went out to get the kids as soon as the tech arrived—see we’re not that horrible of parents) and says to me, “You’re hyperventilating. I need you to take deep breaths,” and puts a rebreathing mask on my face. I think, oh, yeah, hey, I am breathing really fast. I pay attention to my breathing and slow it down. I see a nurse, a doctor, another nurse draws blood, gives me anti-nausea meds & pain killer. An hour later, feeling has returned to everything but my wrists and backs of my hands. Two hours later they send me home. And the diagnosis? Apparently, somewhere between all the puking, dry heaving, and breath-holding (because of the intense stomach pains), I altered my breathing pattern, and “threw off my body chemistry”. The tingling occurred because I wasn’t retaining enough CO2. And when I started crying on the way to the hospital, I just exacerbated and accelerated the problem which caused me to lose complete control of my limbs. Oh, and the hyperventilating didn’t help much either. So basically, we paid $75 (+10% of total cost) for one of these:
And one of these:

When if I would have just gotten one of these:

out of the cupboard and breathed into it, I could have saved us some money. Who knew?

Oh, and by the way, good job to all of those who completed the no sugar challenge. Hip hip horray! Go team!