I Lost 22 Pounds in My Sleep

It was the early part of 1981, though my parents would probably argue that with me, and it was winter in Pollock Pines. Nestled within the
El Dorado National Forest, Pollock Pines is a small town near Placerville, California.

It had now been slightly more than three years since I had been diagnosed and I was fairly stable by that time. The correct dosage of medication had finally been determined. My weight was back down to around 105 pounds. I was still cold most of the time, lethargic, and did not have any real stamina at all, but, all in all, I was doing fairly well most days.

Anyway, I found this to be the case as long as I didn't overdo it, as I would soon learn. My parents were coming to visit and this was the catalyst that would soon start me on a tremendous downward spiral. This visit from my parents was a wonderful yet unexpected surprise that created a real excitement within me. Not only had I not seen them since that infamous Christmas trek of 1977, they had never seen my new home or their newest grandson. And, to make it all the more special, my parents had never been out to see us before. We had always been the one to go see them.

So, naturally, I wanted everything to be just perfect. So, I started doing some major spring cleaning even though snow still laid heavy on the ground. Along with the spring cleaning, I was doing some redecorating as well. I had not done any real decorating since we had moved in and this was the incentive I needed. Unfortunately, the pace and excitement proved to be too much for me to handle, though I did not know it at the time.

As I increased the time spent on preparing my home, I decreased the time spent on taking care of myself. I was getting up too early, staying up too late, skipping too many meals, and just plain doing too much. Except for the brief times I would sit down to catch my breath, I was constantly on the go somehow. And when the day finally came for them to arrive, I was satisfied with myself and the results I had accomplished. I was sure this would be a good visit.

So, now it was time for me to get ready. I put on my favorite outfit... a dark-green crushed velvet dress with a low scooped neck and pale green silk ruffled blouse... and put my hair in a French twist. Since my husband was at work, I would be taking the hour long trip to Sacramento myself.

Just before it was time to leave I went out to warm the car. Just imagine my frustration and anxiety when I found that the car would not start. It had never failed to start before and I was beside myself. I popped the hood and stared at the engine as if something was going to yell "plug me in".

There I was in my dress and heels with the snow coming down around me waiting for my car to talk to me. How stupid can one woman be, right? Well, luckily and unluckily, by living in the middle of a forest we had very few neighbors to witness this act of insanity. After about thirty minutes, I decided there would be no miracle that night and I went in to call my husband. This was the beginning of everything that was to go wrong.

Since the car had never done this before, he was having a hard time accepting that it happen to choose this particular time to malfunction. So to say he was unhappy would have probably been an understatement to say the least. Anyway, he was not at all pleased with all the problems this little dilemma created.

First, he was a machinist by trade and not dressed suitably to go to the airport. Second, he had a job that just had to be done before he could leave so that was going to make him late. Third, he was in the truck, which was an open bed and there was nowhere but the back to put their luggage and the snow was really coming down now.

So, there I was... dressed to the nines... sitting in my chair in front of the space heater waiting... waiting for them to pull up in the driveway.

I never heard them pull into the driveway that night. In fact, I never even heard them come in the door. They were there for somewhere around seven to ten days and I recall very little details of them even being there at all. I can't really tell you what happened because my dear sweet husband at the time never took me to the hospital. He had my parents reluctantly convinced that not only was this not serious, it happened all the time.

When they left, they told me they were frightened for two reasons. One, they were sure he was not telling the truth but were fearful of overstepping their bounds by interfering. Two, they had had no idea my condition could become so grave.

I do not choose that word grave to describe my condition lightly. To this very day I cannot figure out why I did not end up in one. I do not know what to call what happened since I never saw a doctor but my guess is either one of two things. It was either an Addison's Crisis as I had never had before or I was in some kind of coma. I don't know which. All I really know, is I feel extremely lucky to have lived through it. Though the details are sketchy, I'll do my best to tell you want happened during that week or so that my parents were there.

As I said, I did not hear them come in. My first recollection of their presence was the feel of my Mother's hand on my cheek. It was so cool and felt so good. It was such a sweet feeling, like being a child again and being looked after by your loving mother. I will never forget that moment. Mom tells me I was burning up. I opened my eyes a slit, looked up at them and managed a small smile and said, "You're here". Then I was out again.

I don't know how they got me upstairs but my next recollection was Mom sitting on the side of the bed trying to get me to eat or drink something. What, I couldn't tell you. I think I tried but I really wasn't very successful. In my mind these two events were days apart but I found out later that, in fact, they were the same day. When I was no better the next day, they thought it best to just leave, especially now that I was in no condition to visit.

I had a sister who lived in Sunnyvale, a couple hours away. Their original plan was to visit for a couple days and then go see Jean and return a couple days before they were due to fly home. So, the next day Jean came to pick them up. However, you could not prove this by me as I have no recollection of her being there. And the visit I thought lasted ten days lasted in reality just a bit more than ten hours.

Anyway, some days later, I was waking up, better than a week later. I had had nothing to eat or drink during that time, and had not gone to the bathroom either. I know how incredible that must sound, but it's the truth. I weighed 83 pounds. I was, as the saying goes, weak as a kitten. My legs looked like toothpicks and my hair had so many knots in it, it took me three hours to finally get a brush through it.

A few hours later my parents arrived and I was happy to see them and ready to start our vacation. This is when I found out how long I had been asleep. They were there to leave for the airport within a few hours for their return trip. They were here just so they could catch their plane back home.

So ended their trip and my chance to be with them.
Gone... slept away... 10 days of my life... and their vacation.

Destination JO | Home
My Story | Story Index
Diagnoses Index | Update Index
Websites | Email Me

You are listening to Memories from the musical Cats, written by
Andrew Lloyd Webber and T.S. Eliot. I felt this song was a perfect selection
for this site because of the affiliation I feel with Grizabella. Although for her,
it was age and not health issues that changed her, neither of us are who we
were before, on the outside, and it can affect how we feel on the inside.