Legal Chest Pains

I have been worried about my heart the last few days.

Having PVC & PAC activity is always disturbing but it seems a little different lately. More episodes, stronger extra beats or like this morning, two quick episodes of sharp pain with them.

I am sure I have had pain in the past. A faint memory is lying there but I can’t wrap my full attention around it.

When you have sharp chest pains and you are someone with “health anxiety” (the polite term for hypochondriac) then it sets off all sorts of warning alarms that I have mentioned in past posts.

For those not familiar, it goes a little something like this:

Minding my own business

Pain or dizziness – something out of the norm – could be a twitch or twinge

All systems stop in their tracks while the mind and body “listen” for anything else to happen. If it does, that occurrence is analyzed fully and completely.

Analyzing an occurrence goes like this:

What was THAT?

It was a…..<insert symptom here>

I wonder if that is a problem!

<Insert symptom here>

There it is again!

Okay, it was a sharp pain. It was in the center of my chest.


~ Launch all systems GO evaluation~

Blood pressure cuff – on and inflating (please be normal, please be normal….)

PulseOx meter attached (DON’T look at it for 10 seconds because it is always off while it calculates. DON’T LOOK YET)

Blood pressure results – within normal ranges (Thank goodness….)

PulseOx within normal limits (Thank goodness)


“I wonder if I did them right.”

Relaunch check of symptoms

Within normal ranges

“Oh thank God! But…what is that pain? I’ll just look it up on the Internet….”


As someone with health anxiety (don’t be rude, that is what we are calling it. YOU can be a hypochondriac…I am NOT!) searching the Internet for what ails you is the kiss of….well…..anxiety or panic…we CAN’T say the other word or it provokes nervousness.

If you are not in a full-blown attack then, you will be within a few minutes of clicking and sifting through the best terrorizing medical information the web has to offer.

The thing is? We KNOW this yet…we do it again and again.

I did it this morning after my bout of chest pain. “I can’t go to the doctor so I almost HAVE to rely on the Internet, don’t I?”

Um, no but that doesn’t stop me.

I sit down on the edge of my bed facing the window. This is where I go when I start having anxiety. That SHOULD be my first clue but it never is.

I bring up the search engine. “Tell me what my death sentence is Dr. Google” I almost say as I begin my sifting.

One thing I have learned is to stay away from WebMD as it will ALWAYS tell me absolute death is impending. Paper cut? Can become infected leading to death. Hang nail? Seek emergency medical attention as you may die.

We stay away from WebMD but Mayo Clinic is my golden child of the “What am I dying of today” world.

Mayo Clinic tells me the facts but almost leans toward not telling me enough. They always throw in when to seek medical attention but it doesn’t seem as ominous as WebMd does.

So far it could be spasms in my digestive track, PVC/PAC activity just causing pain or…brace yourself, it could be anxiety.

So, I launch another round of vital checks and determine that if I am going to die today, I need to accomplish something worthwhile.

Instead, I start writing.

What I have learned over the last year of my life is that I have become a VERY anxious person. I was always a Type A personality before but never full of twists and turns like I have now.

My previous employer shares much of the blame of the creation of the mess we all see before our eyes.

Years of being treated poorly and differently than my peers took its toll but nothing like the last and final month of my employment after returning from FMLA. The torment elevated to amazing new heights as they clearly felt the need to retaliate for my absence and then plotted my departure.

I have YEARS of excellent service to that company and needed time off to put Humpty Dumpty back together again because I was torn down from all of your games and demands and you couldn’t get past the time off I needed so you termed me? Makes total sense.

I am being told that my life will be better without my involvement in that company, in that department and certainly in that toxic environment but while I wait for that “bliss” to hit, I am left worrying about medical insurance, life insurance and of course, the almighty dollar to pay my bills when I did everything you asked me to do.

One of the things about the culture I worked in was that they pushed “We will provide you with all of the tools you need to do your job effectively” yet when I reminded them that I don’t have the tools, I was written up. When I didn’t quit as they thought I would, they fired me.


As your employee you promised me that you would lead me with all stops removed, to the type of manager you wanted me to be. I did as asked, when asked and usually much better than I was asked to do it, and then you let me go?

That just doesn’t seem ethical. Considering the source, that isn’t a shock.

So today I am fighting my way through the worry that the after effects of your poor and tortuous treatment of me have caused permanent damage.

I pray. I hope and I know that God will take care of me but I also hope that I don’t “go” before I have something important to leave behind. I am not ready and hope God allows me the chance to do something of value for Him, and me.






It’s all gone

It’s become overwhelmingly too much to endure any longer.

The pain of fear. The agony of it all day after day after every damned day.

Today wasn’t bad. I had my reservations, but it wasn’t bad. I thought, as I have in the past that for a minute, things felt better. Different. Perhaps I was leading my way (or after massive amounts of prayer..BEING led) out of this darkness.

Then…in it creeps.

I make a split decision that I regret to my soul and it starts flooding back in.

First with disequilibrium. The feeling of walking on a moving surface. It only lasts a nanosecond but within that nanosecond, panic is let out of its cage.

Then comes the tingling either in my left cheek, jaw or deltoid. This provokes worry. Stroke? Oh God, please help me.

Then it all starts to unravel from there.

If I were talking with the crazy me, I would say “Crazy, listen, this has happened countless times over the last 11 months. You’ve been fine. This is probably from you clenching your shoulders and neck.”

I would try to reason.

There isn’t any.

A pain is a clot. An extra or skipped heart beat (which I have on a good day or bad day and has been checked and double checked) is the sign of impending death.

The strain in my neck is blocked vessels, which is likely partially true exempt its probably caused by tension.

Here come the actual panic attacks. It feels like that very moment when you’re at the top of the highest roller coaster and your stomach drops as the air gasps from your lungs. You’re now flooded with terror.

You reason that this is exactly what panic feels like. Crazy rudely tells you to F-off because what if you’re wrong!

You cry. The terror mixed with the months long guilt and constant fight have taken their toll. You cry a lot. It’s a deep sorrowful sob. It clearly comes from your soul and your soul is wailing.

You pray a string of begging, pleading, promising words as you try not to scare your family.

You apologize repeatedly to your spouse who has had to resort to continuing to watch tv. One hand on the remote while the other pats you. Occasional “You’ll be okay” is spoken and you’re crushed with guilt, remorse and every other emotion that indicates issues.

You’re panic is too much today so you take a full dose of Ativan. Something you never do but, you’re tired. You’re worn out. You look at your spouse through a heavy downpour of tears and squeak “I think I’m going to have to go into the hospital, and I don’t want to.”

Speaking those words out-loud causes you to unleash the wailing of 10,000 wounds that you’ve inflicted upon yourself. The wails of someone at the end of their coping scale. It’s a sound that brings tears to anyone that hears it because its so deep, so sorrowful and so painful, you unwittingly share in it.

You lay next to your spouse who tries to comfort you, but there is none.

The Ativan starts to work a touch so the tears shut off-ish.

You are cold. Cold gives you anxiety so you head to the bath.

You remind yourself that a bath is always a sign of panic and anxiety.

Crazy doesn’t cuss at you because Crazy agrees.

While you let the warm water sooth your spirit and warm your body, you pray. You ask for forgiveness. You try to calm Crazy down some more.

Crazy is unruly. You see, we really don’t know Crazy that well. She is odd. Crazy is shifty. She’s fundamentally the same person but changes almost daily.

Yesterday you could reason with Crazy where today, there is no reasoning.

Crazy practices self-abuse. She’s not a cutter or addicted to drugs but Crazy seems to look for any reason to propel a worry into an anxiety attack.

Her knife is Google. Her drug is The Mayo Clinic.

She feels a twinge, Google fix. “What’s that sentence?” Click.

“Serious risks are involved when”
“Side effects are”
“Symptoms such as these are associated with”
“And in some cases resulting in death”

Crazy will research and read so much that a simple quick sharp pain in the body unleashes a storm of checks and balances that would fry even the most powerful computer.

The checks and balances continue until a diagnosis is formed.

It looks much like the scene in War Games when the computer is flying through possible scenarios to win.

No one wins this game. Ever.

So Crazy settles on a diagnosis and then rechecks with Google, Mayo, WebMd…even Wikipedia.

Crazy reads every single line looking for the sentence that concurs with the findings and then Crazy will pour over it again and again, drilling the prognosis in deeper and deeper until she is certain death is at hand.

A cough is a blood clot. A neck pain is stroke. Numbness in the arm is stroke or heart attack. A headache is cancer. Wait! Recent MRI eliminated that. It’s either a clot or….a headache.

Crazy camps in the tub. Isolated. Wondering if her family would check on her in time to save her from death. She wonders how long she would be in the tub before they would wonder if she was okay.

You shake Crazy and tell her to stop. You can’t do this any more.

The Ativan is working a bit more and Crazy quiets down. You’re left to ponder your next move without Crazy pushing you.

In-treatment looks like its a front runner. Your episodes are bigger but less frequent. Crazy stirs and you stop and wait for the ability to continue.

You evaluate all you’ll lose. How can I go to a facility? I’ll lose everything.

And you will.

Post 9-11 and pre-weapon banning frenzy, your mental health medical records are an interest to about everyone. There will be background checks that include this information. HEPA who?!

I can’t lose everything. But if I don’t….I’m going to lose everything.

Rock and hard place.

You have counseling tomorrow. You hope you can sort out real from fear. Recent upsetting events from normal anxiety.

You dread going to work. You don’t know how you’re going to make it through the day!

Your heart sinks. You tear up. You see your life slipping away. It’s painful.

You’re tired. You’re sad. You’re hopeless, helpless and worn out.

You’ve got very little, if anything left.

Suicide isn’t an option. I do not agree with it or condone it, but I sure as hell understand the reason it happens. (If you feel this is YOUR solution call the Hotline at (800) 273-8255 right now. They can help.)

If you’re not one to commit suicide, what do you do?

I don’t do drugs or drink. I don’t smoke or have a vice. Where is my out?

I guess I’ll have to wait until Crazy fights her way back through the Ativan curtain so she can Google it and find out.

In the meantime, my spouse is left alone. Left to wonder if Ill ever return.
Left to deal with the tormented soul that is so filled with guilt plagued self loathing that I’m sure is torn between wanting their OWN life back and wanting to honor our vows….in sickness and in health.

I would be there until the sun was shining again, but can we really ask another to do the same?

Guilt and shame washes over me every minute of every single broken regret filled helpless day.

My ability to stand strong is gone. My ability to fight this is gone. My ability to reason with Crazy is gone. My abilities to really, do much of anything…are gone.

It’s all gone.

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?


Epic. Catastrophic. Over the top.

Those can describe yesterday.

I was doing….”Okay”. I have been fairly okayish many days. Not fine, not free, just….okay.

Christmas started out rough. I had disequalibrium which just scares the Crap out of me. However, I’ve learned taking ibuprofen helps a great deal which leads me to believe it is indeed swelling in my neck causing the floating, pre-fainting feeling. I get it badly when I look down a lot or am turning my head side to side like walking in a store looking for something. I also get it when I tense, which is what I do. I often feel like my shoulders are stuffed inside the base of my skull.

So, Christmas with the family went well. I was proud. I was good at work yesterday morning. Half day. Was headed to see my friend who is in her final stages of cancer after but had a chiropractor appointment first. I figured my neck is my problem, I would start being proactive.

We meet. He takes xrays, we do a minor quick adjustment and I’m out the door. I feel better….then, tingling creeps into my cheek. I joke about getting ready to have a stroke….then it creeps down my neck into my left deltoid, forearm and wrist.

I go see my friend. When I arrive, her dog runs to me and I pet her. I stand there figuring out who and where everyone is at, as I always do. Her son comes around the corner and….something is different. He comes over to me. He looks distant. Dazed. He says “Didn’t anyone tell you?” No, tell me what? Did something happen? “You don’t know?”

I feel sick. I sure know now.

Is she gone? “I can’t believe no one told you”.

Me either.

I’m so sorry. Are you okay? “Not really.” I know. I’m sorry.

He walks away. Dazed. Her other son comes around the corner. Same look. Shit. It’s true. She’s gone.

Indeed her sister. Same conversaton. “I’m sorry, I thought you’d see it on Facebook.”

I don’t get on her Facebook. I was at work. I don’t get on anyone’s Facebook.

“I thought you knew”

I keep hearing that, but clearly, I did not. I saw her the night before. As we were alone, I talked to her.softly. She can hear. She knows what you’re saying. She can only respond with restlessness.

“You made it to Christmas. You’re amazing. I know you did that for your kids. You’re amazing. Now, its up to you. You’re free to go tomorrow, the next day or never. You get to decide. I promise I’ll take care of your sister and watch over your boys. I’ll do it even if she fights me. So, if you’re tired and want to go….go. Its okay. We sure don’t want you to but we know this is miserable for you. We want what is best for you. Always.”

She died the next morning and no, no one told me.

So, I head home. Dazed. Numbness in my face and left arm. I start to fret its really a stroke.

I get home, have lunch and order the food I was to bring back at 6.

I feel worse and now I’m starting to panic. I recall the doc doing the wrist strength test. He repeated my left one three times, clearly concerned. It stuck in my thoughts. I wonder what that means.

I Google. Epic mistake.

I run into a blur about chiropractic adjustments on the neck causing stroke. That’s it. All alarms start sounding. Stroke. A MAJOR trigger.
The alarms become louder.

Vertibral aortic dissection is what I diagnosed myself with. It’s something that can happen after a neck adjustment. I read a case study on a 38 year old male. Went in after a month of headaches. Had an adjustment and then immediately had balance and speaking issues. Waited an hour in the waiting room before driving home. Had to be driven home from work the next day and by day 3, was headed to the ER for major issues and a long not totally unresolved recovery. Smoked 20 packs a day. No other notes.

That was it. I’m going to have a stroke. I call the doc. Leave a message.

By now I’m checking pulse ox and bp like crazy debating driving to the ER.

I Google like mad. 5th common reason for stroke. More common in young and middle age. Sneezing, picking up something too heavy….blah blah.

The doc calls back. Questions about both arms, one arm, which, oh left. Dizziness? Room spinning? Vision issues? He sounds relieved. Thinks the nerves are irritated. He will take a loom during my appointment tomorrow.

We hang up.

Um, not going. Thanks.

So, I had to cancel the food and call my friends sister. There is no way I can drive clear across town in rush hour while having a stroke.

I let them all down. I promised to take care of them, and right out of the gate….I failed.

Distraught. Pleading, praying, bartering and begging…..

I spent the next 4 hours in a state of chaos and agony. Utter despair. Bawling. Hating myself. Hating who I’ve become. I should be morning my friend. Praying for her and her family, not wollowing in my Crap!

My spouse is helpless. Probably sick of it. More guilt.

I woke up this morning. Still guilt filled. Still forlorn. Still sad.

Still here.

Dont poke a stick at it

So I begin today. I wake slowly a few times through the morning. Today is a day I am able to sleep in and I absolutely do not want to wake up at my regular time. I drift in and out enjoying the quiet and sighing to the fact that I am actually able to stay in bed.

Reality starts to fade in and I wish it would stay asleep too. Flashes of the day before start to intrude on my bliss and before you know it, the last 45 minutes of what could be quiet, calming sleep, are assaulted by blips of discussions, incidents, fears and fretting. Now, I, am, awake.

My spouse was upset yesterday because the new job is difficult. The supervisors pulled my spouse in to the office and had a 30 day review. As a manager myself I think, ut oh, as soon as I hear the news. My spouse starts to, with great stress, relay the meeting.

Not so good news. They like you…but. There it is. The lurching but.

Now, the fact that I am in the midst of a back slide in my own deal-eo, does not make listening to this any easier. I am trying to focus on what is being said as numbness drifts to my left arm and face. I start to panic a little but try very hard to hide it and remain neutral. My spouse is now crying stating that they feel like a failure as I fight to remain in the here and now, and not concentrate on my impending sudden death.

I try to comfort my spouse because after all, there are real issues there too. My spouse has suffered from anxiety and depression for years. Disability was the only source of support until my spouse didn’t send the paperwork for the review back and was dropped off. I was furious when I found out.

My spouse doesn’t do well at work. Never has and we have been together 14 years. I hear about all of this success pre-melt down and am amazed its possible. People skills, great unless you are someone my spouse does not care for and then its all over. Forever.

So as my spouse is talking about having trouble seeing the forms and completing the work, I flash to a month from now and realize, my spouse is going to be fired.

I am angry yet understanding. It is a weird mix. You want to be compassionate but by the same token, you want to freak out. Computers have never been a strong skill for my spouse and this job requires some basic computer skills. Eyesight is an issue and macular degeneration runs on the paternal side of the family so, I worry this is something coming along as well.

Now, before I continue, let me just make this statement. I am truly a kind hearted person who loves my family. I am giving and believe in a world with Good and God. There are things in this world and life that sometimes people just cannot help.

Having said that….

I am frustrated. I see a near future where I am the only income. Again. Now we are worrying about the limited vision so that means no driving for my spouse. So, I am now the only income and the only form of transportation that my spouse will have. What about doctor appointments, the grocery store, outings and other things? It is a lot to fret about.

For better or for worse. I embrace that. I do. But it doesn’t keep me from being fearful that I am not in a position at this time in my life to handle the for worse part, because right now, I am in the midst of my for worse and I want to get away from ME!

Lets also ponder for a moment, other posts where I have relayed conversations where my spouse has been just short of a jackass with my for worse part. I am sure it is unintentional but jackass is jackass, even if it is by mistake.

Dont get me wrong, I am not divorcing my spouse because of a job loss or loss of vision. That is crazy talk. I am ranting that in the midst of the worst now 7 months of my life, I don’t know if I can cope with big drama on the other side right now. I am fearful that a job loss or devastating news about my spouse will seal my fate and I will be forever loony.

The same can be said for my prison of a job.

I had a phone interview yesterday with another company. I will have a face to face interview at the end of the month for a job that pays almost 16k less a year but has a rep for a great place to work, great benefits and would actually have me OFF on the weekends. I would also not work later than 6p. However, 16k less a year when the spouse is likely going to be unemployed before the first snowfall…..I may be chained to my current hell for a longer period. Of course, that’s unless they get rid of me first. I am sure with every review and every increase they think they could get someone cheaper and that hasn’t lost heart. Because frankly, they have stabbed me in mine so often, I really have nothing left.

I wonder, if I left, will they care? Will they know I am leaving because of how I have been treated all of these years? Will it matter? Likely not.

The Director has been normal lately. Pleasant really. My boss has been absent for several weeks. Not from work, just from my work. It has been nice as I was ready to pop with a weekly or bi-weekly visit to drop in and say the same things. Now if visits happen, I am sure it is when I am gone.

I think about losing that job and wonder if I will care. I wonder if it will actually send me over the edge. It may or it may actually bring me back from the brink. It is such a hostile environment that it amazes me that the people in the ivory offices are really SO out of touch that they don’t see it.

Then I wonder, should I just leave a sue them? Should I sue them for $1 just because I need to make a statement about how terrible they treat people? How they have turned me in to this absolute shell of who I used to be or could have been?

I am irritated that they treat people the way they do and think it is okay.

They fire some people for ethical lapses that yes, should have been fired, no mistake about it. Then I wonder if they are evaluating WHY these people, after SO many years are making these terrible decisions?

Do they understand that beating people down day after day, having as many changes as our company has had over the last few years, demanding more more more with no understanding of the burn out it causes, do they think just MAYBE some of this may be why people with 8 or 10 years of tenor are taking a path they have never taken before?

I have been there 8 and I have been beaten to DEATH by them but no, I would never steal. I wouldn’t do the things that others have done but I also couldn’t care less about them. I care about my employees and their well-being but as far as the oppressors go, it wouldn’t phase me if they left and never came back. It wouldn’t upset me if I made a job transition to another company for the same income. I would fill by box and book it out the door yelling “SEE YA!” on the way out.

So with all of this going on, it is no wonder my anxiety and panic are back to manifesting themselves in worry over my health. That is how I express my fret. Health anxiety. I highly recommend staying away from it because it will drain you fast!

So today, I get up, go about my duties that I have to meet and then return home. I gave myself a haircut. (Do not assume that I went Brittany Spears, I have cut my hair for years and never chose to go bald but thank you for your concern)

I showered and came in my room. My goal for the day has been to NOT lay down but stay seated or moving. I decided I was having anxiety so I am writing instead of obsessively checking my blood pressure and pulse ox. It is like an addiction. If I want to get out of the habit, I have to stop doing it.

Besides, I am functioning. I am tired and want to nap but should go in to work. I don’t want to and am considering just starting my new-found resolve to stay busy, tomorrow.

When you are functioning okay, limited dizziness, some “unreal” feelings but over all, functioning, it is silly to take a blood pressure and risk undoing what is functioning. I WANT to take my bp, but then I think about last week when I did and how I took an okay week and turned my life back into constant panic and worry.

If you are functioning, don’t poke a stick at it. Continue to function until you can’t. Then, poke the stick because you’re already down, whats more going to do?!

So, as I finish my ramble, I have glimpses of hope that I can be productive and get my homework done today. Of course it would involve actually DOING the homework for which at this second, I am too tired to do. I think I will see if I can take a nap. If not, homework and maybe work it is.

For the rest of you who have the affliction that I do, I pray that you find peace and calm. Even if it’s just for a few hours. I am praying that your hours lead to days, to weeks, to months and to years.

This world is in shambles and life is not easy. With prayer and luck, maybe, just maybe we can get back to normal. We can feel good. We can experience true joy and happiness.

Those are my prayers for you. And me.

Daily struggle

My life is a daily struggle. I suffer through out each day and night, fretting I won’t see the next.

I start to do better and then have a chest pain or dizzy spell…and backslide I go.

I had been trying to climb out of my latest hole. I had chest pains a few weeks back and called the cardiologist. He brought me in, did another echocardiogram, with a stress test. Nothing. Brought me back a few days later for a CT scan with dye. Awful. Results inconclusive. As soon as the dye hit my heart, it went wild. They couldn’t get what they needed. Wasted test and time.

On to now, one week ago, I was doing pretty well. I was having some good days. I came home, plopped down and watched.some movies. I had an event with my heart, as I always do, and ran a bp as a way to show myself everything is fine. Later, another except this time my bp was 98/56 and I freaked. Since then, my new panic is a low heart rate (low 50s) and fear of low blood pressure.

I’ve read a lot. It’s likely I’ve induced symptoms of bed rest as I sit on my ass day after day refusing to move much. Fear you know….

So a form of hypotension is possible. It takes up to 2 months to resolve. If that’s what I have, Shameful.

So, again a goal of exercise daily. I need to even just walk. Something…

It’s ironic that the very thing you fear, heart disease or death, is exactly what you’ll cause by being too afraid to move….yet, you have no ability to control or conquer it. Anxiety has rendered you nearly disabled.

I “white knuckle” my way through each day hoping I will find ME again. So far, I have seen fleeting glimpses but nothing real reassuring that ME will return full-time, any time soon.

I’ve lost myself and I think that is the core problem with anyone that is afflicted with this terrible ailment.

I visually look okay. Unless you know me. You may ask if I am alright or feeling poorly because something just isn’t right. But, unless you take the time to get to know me, I seem ordinary. I seem fine.

I’m far from fine.

In my mind, I am sobbing and begging God to please remove this burden and pain of anxiety, depression and panic from my life. In my head, I am constantly checking and re-checking how my body feels. I am in tune with each and every ache, creek or abnormal event my body experiences every minute of every single plagued day.

It is draining. It is painful. It is CONSUMING.

I have read and reread every single thing I can about my heart, vessels, rhythms, electrical impulses, PVC, PAC, A fib, svt, orthostatic hypotension, stress tests, echocardiogram, stress tests and echos together, CT scans, angiograms, MRI’s, GERDS and arythmias….the list is…..endless.

One might ask why it all doesn’t reassure me, it does, for a bit. Then I am right back to it.

A different or recycled worry, a panic, a constant check and recheck of my body, vitals and understanding of a particular worrisome ailment.

I wasn’t always this person. I used to be secure. I used to be productive. I used to be….ME.

CT Scan with Die

Yes, die.

I had a CT Scan with contrast dye today. I had a moment where I couldn’t breathe and my heart was going to explode. I hated it. Panic attack you ask?

Well, let me hook a tow truck up to your heart and see if you have some panic.

Apparently I had a “mild” reaction. Intense symptoms for a few minutes apparently constitutes mild.

Well, me and my MILD symptoms will never do that again. My heart rate went from 66 to 120, my heart was flipping around like it was trying to leave my body. Quickly, but was hung up on some ribs.

The tech called the doc down. I was trying to tell her my hear was all over but she left the room. Nice. I was weekly saying “Hello? Hello?” nothin.

As I recover, she mentions she pushed a bigger dose through because my heart rate was heading toward the 80’s. I’m medication sensitive. Thanks for trying to kill me for a minute.

My body is pissed off. I’ve been in a funk all day. Pushing fluids but it doesn’t seem like enough so now I worry I’m not getting the dye out like I should.

I hear I’ll feel better tomorrow. That’s good because this adventure has set me back in my anxiety and panic.

Dizzy spells, wanting to run home and be in my safe spot. Only 1 bath today though.

I’m hoping for good news from the doc tomorrow. If I’m not at risk for anything, meaning no sign of heart disease or other nasty things that appear with a CT Scan, I’m paying off my bills and quitting my job.

No job, no paycheck is worth what I went through today.

My employers culture is one of suspicion, fear, politics and nepotism. It’s toxic an I know it will be the death of me if I don’t get out.

I hate to have to start over. I don’t think I should but what else am I going to do? Unless you’re related, favored or got dirt, you’re at risk. That’s no way to live.

I’ll say it again, that company will be the death of me if I don’t leave.

I feel victimized every time I pull into the parking lot.

The sr. Director is worthwhile but the people below her? Wouldn’t last a second at another company in those positions. They cheat lie and try to intimidate whomever they can. It’s disgusting. Not for profit clearly doesn’t also have to mean moral compass.

I’ve had SO many signs from God that it’s time to save myself. God is watching over me, I know.

I wish they could be what they preach they are. Shameful.