When did life get so damned hard?

Admitted into the hospital yesterday. My life is….over.

I continued to experience numbness and decided I would call the neurologist to see what she thought.

I couldn’t get them on the phone as the answering service was still on 20 minutes after they open. So I dropped in to make an appointment.

After talking with them, the neuro came out and did a quick physical in the waiting room. Next thing I know, I’m being admitted.

If you’ve read my other posts, I’m terrified of meds, tests and just about anything medical.

So, the world is now spinning and I’m terrified.

I call my spouse and start crying. I get yelled at because I never mentioned I was going to the neuro or that I was having problems.

I was told how the boss was on vacation and no one else was there so leaving is out of the question. I hear how there’s a wake at 6 and the funeral Saturday at 10 and on and on.

I get angry and am told I shouldn’t take a tone.

Great. Terrified AND alone. Thanks. Great vows.

So, I’m admitted.

I sit and wait quietly in my room waiting for the nurse to come in. I look at the bed and wonder if this is the last room I will see.

The nurse comes in and asks questions. Allergies, height, surgeries….I answer with an aching heavy heart.

“Do you think I am having a stroke?” I ask clearly begging.
“I will be surprised, but we will know more after testing”.

We discuss the MRI. It’s closed. I’m claustrophobic. VERY. We discuss trying to medicate me enough to get me in. We agree that we will see…I secretly don’t agree.

She gives me a gown and I change.

No one is there. I have no one to call. I am alone and terrified.

I quietly wait for the testing to begin. And, it does.

Cardiology. Echo and bubble test. The is YOUNG. I ask if its ok. She says she can’t read them but…she didn’t see anything to worry about.

As cardiology is there, MRI shows up. Too early. They will come back.

Cardiology finishes, in comes blood. I see from her tag she is a level II and think, oh good.

Yeah, no.

6 sticks later…still issues. She says what she got will have to be enough.
Nice. I’m very confident and SO at ease…

In comes the nurse with a huge syringe full of Ativan. I’ve had Ativan before so I’m okay with it.

After the injection, I am pretty okay with anything. I decide, I’m ready to go.

I go through the MRI. It’s tight. I’m drugged, so, it’s cozy. I’m fine with it.

In my Ativan haze I decide I’m ready for this to be over. Go ahead. I’ve been on the edge of deaths door for months…in my mind.

I decide, through Ativan, I’m resigned to this being it. I look around. I’m in a hospital room.

The sun is setting. I have yet to turn on the TV. Kinda creeps the nurses that you don’t want the TV on. But I hold my ground.

I have no lights on. I just want to be. I want to just sit.

I’ve had a few more conversations with my spouse, all just as crappy and I realize….I’m sitting here. Alone.

My spouse didn’t drop everything and run to my side. My spouse started fight after fight with me.

My marriage….is over. This is unforgivable.

I’m facing what may be a stroke, and you give me a laundry list of reasons you can’t be here. You can’t be here while I wait to hear if I’ve had a stroke.

I say I understand you were the only one at work but, ya know what? I don’t.

I don’t because if it were me, I would’ve called my boss from the car.

So I sit and wait.

I hear the resident in the nurse station taking the MRI results over the phone.

I hear TIA, and then it’s loud. I can’t hear anything else. I expect him to come in. But he doesn’t.

For an hour….I’m left hearing TIA. To me..a kiss of death. We all know TIA’s are warning shots for a future stroke.

I have NO markets other than being now 20 pounds overweight. Nothing else.

How the hell am I going to fight this?!

Finally the attending and resident come in. TIA.

I’m told I have high cholesterol. Stunned. I ask what it was. 115.

Ummmm….what? It should be under 100.

Okay but it wasn’t a fasting test…it doesn’t matter.

Well, I sure bet it does a little. But 115 is fixable with a little tweaking on my diet.

“I’ve prescribed you plavix”

Isn’t diet change good enough? Perhaps but a stroke is imminent if you don’t take the medicine.


Here is a script for Paxil. You seem like an anxious person.

Think so? Admitting me for a stroke may INCREASE that.

And take a baby aspirin daily to thin your blood.

Out I go. I text my spouse and say I’m headed home.

I get home and make a quick dinner and make my spouses coffee for the morning. I figure I would just be nice and decompress.

In walks my spouse with some paper that’s been printed off of the Internet about TIAs and is furious I won’t look at it.

We fight for two hours about how I am a drain.

I’m heart broken.

In the morning, we discuss the fight and now I can say, you my dear are not a treat either. But I don’t tell you that you drain me. But you do.

My spouse is off to work. I’m left for the day and.

I truly am over it all.

When did life get so damned hard?


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