Yes, there will be vignettes later.
First, though, now that I’ve slept 12 hours or so, and I’m feeling more like myself, I’d like to present from my perspective the view of the last few days’ insanity.
First of all, it kept running through my mind “D*mn tedious waste of two days” in the voice of the A & E Pride and Prejudice mini-series character who refers to the Merryton Assembly as “D*mn tedious waste of an evening.”
You see, if I’d been alone when I collapsed in the shower (and according to Dan appeared to be dead) I wouldn’t have gone to ER. In fact, experientially, from my POV, I fell asleep and had an hour long dream. (Never mind that Dan says it was about a minute, because dreams like fairyland have no contact with the real world.) I was not in my dream but that is not precisely unusual for me, either.
I would have woken up, been surprised the water was still warm, got out of the shower, perhaps lain down on the floor a few minutes if my vision kept blacking when I stood up (this would not be the first time this exact sequence of events happened) then crawled back to bed for an hour, and then got up and resumed normal life. The blog would have been a little late. By the time the guys got home from work, I’d have forgotten about it. (Again, this is not the first time.)
This is why Dan dragged me to ER kicking and screaming. Or it would have been kicking and screaming if I had had the energy to kick and scream. No one was more shocked than I when the EKG showed abnormal “muddy” and out of kilter rhythms. (Which is what they think happened. They think it went out of sequence and got caught in a minor electrical loop which, fortunately, reset itself. BUT it was set off and combined with a bunch of other stuff, which mostly amounts to “not enough blood getting to brain.”)
The thing is I have a strong feeling if I indulge my body and give consequence to its fits of weirdness, I’ll live in ER. So instead I ignore what I can and stop what I can by sheer will power, and I don’t end up losing two days to writing, don’t worry anyone and things keep going.
Which brings me to my issues with being in ER and then in the hospital beyond the fact that I feel apologetic at increasingly more bizarre test results and like I’m somehow perpetrating a prank on the doctors and should beg pardon.
I don’t do well being taken care of, or receiving well-wishes. Don’t misunderstand me, I’m deeply grateful for the outpouring of love and affection, and in a way it helped but it also made me feel self conscious and bad that I was worrying everyone and causing everyone to make a fuss, because I should not have let my body give way, and I should not be weak.
Perhaps we can sum it up with what dad used to tell me when I hurt my knee, when I was little, “Legionaries” (in the sense of Rome) “Don’t cry.”
I feel that the very fact I need care is a deep personal failure, and everyone I “put out” is someone I’m inconveniencing, and I shouldn’t be.
I realize, from an external point of view this is deeply screwed up, but I can’t stop feeling it just because I realize that. And if I try to explain it to someone, I feel like I’m giving a wrong impression. Like, for instance, I get the feeling that they think I shouldn’t be cared for because I don’t value myself as a woman and feel no fuss should be made, and no resources wasted on me.
Instead, the truth is I shouldn’t have to be cared for because I’m the Mama, and the mama (which in my head is still my grandma) holds the sky and the Earth together. You can’t give way in those circumstances. It’s unforgivable weakness. It’s deserting a post of honor.
Anyway, my medical emergency proceed as such things proceed for me: Increasingly stranger findings that lead to at least three different diagnosis, which means this was either “perfect storm” or “Wait, what?” and I should have kept the d*mn thing under control and not have bothered anyone.
Though, mind you there are a couple of things, one of them urgent, that were incidental findings to this. Meaning, they didn’t cause the emergency, but one of them I should get seen really quick because it could lead to ah… serious issues. Like death. PROBABLY not, but possibly, over time. Yes, I’ll keep you appraised, since if it’s an issue, it will require surgery.
But over all this is a case of “Sarah allowed her body out of control and permitted her heart to have issues.” For that I’m sorry, and I’m sorry for worrying everyone and giving so much trouble and fuss. And I’m sorry for spending time not wring.
And yes, I’m aware this IS stupid, and that I really should learn to accept care. But it feels like a breech in protocol when I do. I’m supposed to be the one who cares for others.
ANYWAY…. several things to try to prevent this happening again:
I’m going to continue with the blog, but I’d like some more guest posts, please and thank you. I’d like to write no more than 3 original posts a week. I’ll be honest, part of this is because it’s eating my fiction writing. BUT the eating of my fiction writing increases stress, and I need to bring that down.
I’m going to try to limit facebook to an hour in the morning and an hour in the evening, and reduce the instances of hopping all over facebook getting in fights. It’s addictive, yes, but the stress thing, again, and seriously, it’s not my job.
I’m going to re-center on my writing, because it’s fun and it reduces stress too.
These should help keep my stress to a minimum which will keep the autoimmune feedback to a minimum too.
I’m going to try to drink more water and sports drinks too, because I have a frightening tendency to get clinically dehydrated.
I’m implementing a series of supplements for my tendency to shed minerals.
I’m going to start scheduling a day a week to “do fun cr*p” preferably with Dan, but if he’s not available, it might amount to sitting around and reading. There haven’t been any of those days in decades, and perhaps this is needed.
I’m following through on the medical weirdness, including the incidental medical findings.
And now please return to your scheduled insanity. I’m going to nip over to FB for a few minutes, and then clean this place and write. Because this has been a d*mn tedious waste of two days.