Near death experience almost dying of type 1 diabetes

I almost died of type 1-diabetes. I had gone to an adventure experience, Girl Scout Camp. I got ill with something, a big flu or whatever, a cold. We thought it was nothing. Someone took care of me on the worst night of my life. I wasn’t getting any sleep. I slipped into diabetic coma when we got home, because Zod was busy trying to figure out what it was and getting the sexist run around from doctors. See, I eventually wound up on life support with all biological functions run by machines. While Zod has a DNR, I have a keep me alive.

This is the most traumatic experience of my life. Oh sure, there’s enough pain for CTPSD and PTSD at the same time. How I get out of the house when I need to is beyond me. Add my past life issues I’m trying to sort out, and dang it, I feel like it is time to manifest real money and pay my own insurance. I get to pay my car registration tomorrow at the AAA field office. See, Zod takes no interest in my blog, my stories, or anything else about me. So in which case, I’m lucky I made it to 38, don’t look my age, too hot to go to my high school reunion. I was way too paranoid this week. Then it hit me, Zod doesn’t enjoy my calm, content, happy energy. She feeds off of stress. So the less stressed I get, the less snacking for her.

Yes, I’m a keep me alive sort, I enjoy living. Even with my health problems. Dead people can’t eat food. I can enjoy food without me getting fat from it though. Zyprexa is awesome, you sleep but you eat because we depressed folks don’t always have an appetite. Oh hell, that’s a mental illness thing.