And because he wants me to do all this monitoring and it's going to require using the nebulizer all the time, he's putting me on disability as of last Thursday. I don't lose a thing and I get to rest. If I could yell right now, I'd say,"YIPPEE!" But I can't yell, so I'll say,"yippee!."

Well, last night, I had a perfectly acceptable diabetic meal. I had a lean meat hamburger, two slices of whole wheat bread and a small serving of potatoes, along with a salad and a bunch of broccoli. I politely waited and did my sugars and was rewarded with a 208! Hellllooooooo steroids!!!!

Holy shit, you say. Well, if you don't say it, I will. "Holy SHIT!" I don't think I've had a sugar that high the whole pregnancy. And of course, my lungs are so screwed up at the moment, that I couldn't very well go walk or swim it off.

I called the doctor and waited to see if I could piggyback a little more insulin on board to bring that sucker down, but he said to skip my snack (strawberries and vanilla diabetic ice cream :( ) and see what the morning brought. As you can see, the morning was brought to you by Decent Sugars(TM). We also discussed that it would probably be better overall to do my steroids in the morning. That way if my sugars were screwy, we'd know about it during daylight hours and that I wouldn't be spending the longest part of my day, i.e., night, with high sugars.

I'm really exhausted though. I looked at my face this morning and I've got big dark rings under my eyes. I am not one of those gothic girls with black lipstick and black nail polish, so I'm figuring I'm a mommy. I am positive this is a precursor to how I'll feel and look post-partum for about a year.

I can breathe a little better, but there's like junkies stuck in my chest. I can cough up junkies and stuff, but I can barely do anything without huffing and puffing. After spending the entire pregnancy as this buff swimming momma, I'm more than a little disappointed about this. I did however get the file boxes re-filed and get the bags repacked for the hospital, even though I had to have a half hour nap and a treatment afterwards.

The contents of said bags:

I'm also going to bring something to play CD's on. I've got this thing about Mary Chapin Carpenter. I played her last time I gave birth, too. I think it's because I know all the words to all the songs, so there's that sense of what's familiar. The repetitiveness is a useful focal point when working with the pain. I made them play it in the surgery room because it gave me something to focus on that wasn't the surgery and that wasn't what I perceived as my failure to have a "normal" birth at the time.

I remember feeling nothing from the boobs down and humming along with her songs. It was reassuring and comforting in that sterile room with all these strangers and the dull feeling of them pushing on my abdomen to get my son into daylight.

With all the unknown ahead, I could use some reassurance.