Ugh, today didn't start out the way I planned. It was one of those mornings. I swung my feet over the side of the bed, sat up, and the room spun. I just needed to lie back down and do it again, slowly, so that my positional vertigo caught up with my surroundings. Then, my crumbling knees and wonky ankles wobbled over to the bureau and I decided on my outfit for my outing with the fam for brekkie.
We drove south to Ellis Street on the island, where our destination Fina's Farmhouse is located, and the traffic was rather insane heading to New Jersey. We found out that there was an accident on the Outerbridge that wasn't going to be cleared up anytime soon. Now I'm no food critic, but I've had way better at a diner than I did at Fina's. Lisa's honey butter pancakes were suspiciously under cooked and not what she expected. We sat and watched them pour Timmy's apple juice from a Shoprite container into a plastic cup with ice, which cost $3, and oddest of all, they only had two types of tea ~ black regular and green. Now, I LOVE black tea, but my body hasn't done caffeine since the 90's so it was a disappointing green tea for me. But sitting with family for breakfast, or any meal, is priceless isn't it?
When i got home I changed and headed into the backyard to say my Rosary and Divine Mercy Chaplet. That's when I started to think of just how fragile life is. I'm not sure what got me thinking about it but I thought of January 2025 when I was in the hospital with pnemonia and a UTI. Oh, I know what it was! My sugar is absolute crap today. It was crashing when I woke up so I ate a banana (worst fruit ever for a diabetic). I have cyclical Cushing's syndrome so my sugar goes up when I get stressed, or if if I'm sick, or if my cortisol is wonky, or if I'm surprised, or if it's a Friday in August or no reason at all. Of course what I eat happens to affect it too, but normally my blood sugar just needs a high cortisol to get it pumping so it can and does raise while fasting too.
Anyhoo, literally a week or so before going into the hospital in 2025, I had received 5 or 6 Saint Benedict medals for myself and my family that had been blessed by an Exorcist (how cool is that?) My cousin knew a guy, that knew him or something like that, but anyway, I got them and instantly switched the blackened one on my neck for the new one, so I had a brand new, shiny, Saint Benedict jubilee medal on my neck. At dinner time the lovely lady from dietary came and delivered my dinner and also a half turkey sandwich for later in the evening. ( You know how hospitals are ~ serve dinner at 4:30-5 and the next meal is breakfast at 8:30 the next day.) The hospital administers insulin to diabetics before you eat, based on a finger stick just prior to the meal, and the shot is adjusted based on your numbers. At around 10, the aide came in to do a finger stick and give me my regular dose of long-lasting insulin for the night. At one point the doctor decided that the sugar was still too high so he sent her in again with another 10 units and then again with another 60 units, that was way, way, way over-medicating me. Aside from that, my long-lasting insulin should not be mixed with the short ones.
The moment she left I started to feel sick. I can't even begin to describe what it did to me mentally. I couldn't even form the words to talk, my heart starting racing and I broke out in a sweat. Most of all, I swear I could feel my soul about to leave my body. It was a very odd feeling like my body was transitioning. I knew that I was in trouble because I was in the bed but didn't feel connected to my body. Very odd. My first thought was to get that sandwich into my mouth, which I did along with the graham cookies that were with it. My roommate saw that I was in trouble and came over to me (she was a nurse too) and got the nurse and they got orange juice, opened it up, and added sugar to it. The nurse then took my sugar and it was in the low 20's!!!!! That's a coma number. After my body started to calm down, the nurse told me to get some sleep and I told her that I was afraid to, because I was afraid I would die in my sleep. She assured me she would watch out for me and I did finally manage to get to sleep.
Now, normally, I have to ask for a snack in the evenings, but that day dietary brought it without me asking. Saint Benedict is the patron saint against many things, but one of them is poison. Insulin is poison to a body that doesn't need it. I'm a firm believer that It was the intercession of Saint Benedict, who I have a devotion to, that I am still here. If I didn't have that half a sandwich and graham cookie, I would never have been able to function and get my roomies attention. Praise the Lord, and thank you Saint Benedict. You won't change my mind about that and say what you want, but I just happened to get a new Saint Benedict medal, blessed by an exorcist, a week before I was overdosed on a poison? Yes, it was him.
So that is when Saint Benedict saved my life. It is because of his intercession, and God, that I am still here and able to enjoy brekkie with the family and my little Timothy.
Enjoy each day. Life is so fragile. Love and peace to you.
Mare
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