argh, my heart hurts

I am trying desperately to edit a 125 page chapter in my WSS book and I just can't stand it.

I am far, far behind. The book has fifteen chapters and I am only on chapter 5, and my heart hurts.

I don't know how much more of this heart palpitation thing I can take. Last week I accidentally ate a few bites too many of mashed potatoes. I know, I know, I can't have carbs anymore. But c'mon, I can't have bread, chips, pretzels, cereal, toast, french fries, barbeque anything, pizza, soda, lemonade, coffee, pasta, carrots, squash, ice cream, cookies, pie, hot chocolate, brownies...anything anymore. I can eat no food that has flavor, texture, joy.

So forgive me if I eat a little mashed potatoes with my steak. I can't help it, I'm irish (well, genetically anyway).

So, I ate a little too much of a starchy substance to help make my otherwise boring chunk of meat interesting. That night I had trouble sleeping. By the following day, the heart palpitations started, as well as the all over body aches, trembling, weakness, and fatigue. And the symptoms lasted for days, and days, and days.

I am supposed to be editing a book really, really quickly, remember? And instead, I am having heart palpitations that make it really hard to breathe. It hurts to type, and I am so fatigued I can't think.

Damn potatoes.

Worse yet, that all started last week. So a week of diminished productivity and suffering. The pain went away yesterday, and then I screwed up and ate some salad that had blue cheese in it (I didn't really realize the mistake before it was too late). And the dizziness and heart palpitations started again with a vengence.

Seriously, I don't think my lips are supposed to be that shade of purple.

Now I am trying to type, to edit, to think and I can't breathe. This is infuriating and agonizing. I have moved from depression to despair. If I survive this I am going to find that doctor woman at the emergency room who told me that PVCs (pre-ventricular contractions) are nothing, and slap her really hard right across the face. I mean it.

Meanwhile, I am still trying to work. The weather here is super hot and extremely humid (lotsa flooding, dangerous storms, and ozone warnings). I wemble between typing downstairs in the humidity, and typing here in the computer room where it is too dry and frigid (for the sake of the servers). In neither place am I comfortable. And never mind my trying to sleep. If I lay on my side (my standard sleeping position), my heart leaps around in my chest like a fish on a peer.

And through it all, all I can do is keep my eye on the prize. I must finish the book, I must finish the book...

... and I must never, ever, ever eat any more potatoes for as long as I shall live, amen.