First, be a high-risk Type 1 Diabetic pregnant woman who has just done IVF.
Next, wake up at 2am on a Friday morning with a splitting headache and take a couple of panadol. Wait 20 mins.
Start vomiting dramatically and violently for several hours. Decide you have suddenly been hit by the worst morning sickness the world has ever known.
Drink a tiny amount of water. Fail to keep even that down. Repeat a couple of times, enough to get really scared about dehydration and the baby and whatnot.
Thank the heavens that your husband is here and that he can monitor the Dexcom. Double thank you to the diabetes gods who prevented me from going low throughout all of this.
The the other end joins in. Belly pains. Not morning sickness. Food poisoning. Well, that's sort of okay if it means I won't be doing this every day, but only on the condition that little walnut baby is kept safe and healthy.
At one point I feel so sick, I'm sitting on the couch cos it's closer to the bog that the bed is. My temperature is mega hot and I've just sweated so much I've drenched my big fluffy pink polar fleece dressing gown. Hubby gets very worried when I start moaning and pacing. I know he nearly took me to hospital right then and there.
Early hours of the morning: remember that vomiting plus headache could equal ketones. Do a blood test and get 0.3 on the Optium. Fail to remember that this is still within the normal range and decide I will probably need to go to A&E for IV fluids. Decide to wait a bit until morning and if it's not better, then trundle off down the road to the hospital.
As soon as it's respectable, start texting and calling: my Diabetes Nurse Educator, my GP, my midwife, my boss, my friend, my Mum.
DNE was great, she called or texted throughout the day to monitor my progress. We discussed it and she suggested if I was really worried about dehydration I could go straight to A&E, but that we could try managing this at home.
The time between events started to increase. By about 9am I can drink a little ginger ale, and I try my hand at some marmite toast (too soon!). Tiny, tiny bites. We'll chewed.
The GP doesn't want to see me, even though the DNE and midwife both want me to see him. Well, technically the receptionist doesn't want to see we. She tells me just to go straight to the hospital.
The midwife phones after 1pm and is working off old info by that time. She wants all sorts of nasty tests that involve leaving the house. I tell her I am now able to hold down liquid. Put down the phone, and turn my truth into a lie! Sigh.
DNE checks in again, she is happy with my progress. Hubby looks exhausted, poor darling.
Snack on ginger ale (regular) and ready salted chips. I find that if I let my tummy go empty I feel a lot worse. Use a couple of temp basal increases, and bolus carefully for any food - but always wait to see if I'm going to keep it!
Mum pops round about 4pm, by which time I have finally, almost got a complete set of clothes on.
I manage a small dinner of pasta spirals with chopper mini tomatoes in olive oil and black pepper. The best food in the world it tastes like!
Last night I sleep a full night for the first time in weeks. I didn't even get up to pee. Which probably means I'm still a bit dehydrated. I feel much better today, although I've lost 4kg (from 59kg back down to 55kg). I am eating small snack and trying to drink a steady amount of water.
So, yeah, that is how to scare the pants off everyone around you.
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