Good news: Beloved is on the mend.
Bad news: It took seven hours in hospital and three litres of saline drip to restore their health. And to add insult to injury, they couldn't figure out what was wrong with them.
Good news: I have my appetite back.
Bad news: I'm still tired as all get-out.
Beloved's had plenty of time to read up on random stuff, and it might actually be the magnesium compounds I've been taking because magnesium is good for me. We'll see.
Beloved also wanted their gall bladder ultrasounded, but the GP was really alarmed about the low blood pressure and high blood sugar [curse you, gluconeogenesis1!] so insisted on going to the hospital. The ultrasound will be happening at a later date.
And whilst at the hospital, the doctors there wanted to see that Beloved could eat. The meal consisted of mashed potatoes, quiche with corn in it, and beans and carrot medley. Of course the proportions were all wrong, and Beloved had to pick the good stuff out of the bad stuff.
The medics were satisfied and I had to rouse myself from bed and go fetch them. Possibly a contributing factor to why I'm so buggered, now.
I just want to crawl off and nap until I feel better. So I'm still on low batteries. The stew in the slow-cooker will do for tonight, and then it has to be packed up or thrown away. If it isn't improved and devoured straight up.
Blurgh. I need to get on with stuff so I can napnap.
[^1] the human body is the ultimate smarty-pants. In the absence of glucose or carbohydrates that break down into glucose, it'll turn body fats into ketones and run on that. When that isn't enough, it will generate its own sugar, either out of the fats or out of muscle tissue. As you can imagine, this is a real problem for a diabetic.