Fighting Myself
This has been a rough week for me. Physically and emotionally.
Sunday night landed me in the ER with chest pain. Wasn’t really my idea, but I work on a cardiac unit and they take chest pain sort of serious up there. My coworkers informed me either I was walking down to the ER or they were going to Rapid Response my ass. Needless to say I walked down.
Had a full cardiac workup and once again my heart looks good. First diagnosis was Pleuritis, basically a inflammation of the lining of your lungs. I didn’t buy it, I’ve had it before and it didn’t feel this way. I had my follow up appointment at my brand new family doctor yesterday (LOVE) and she didn’t agree with the doctor either. She thinks it’s an issue with the tissue between my ribs. Luckily the treatment is the same for both ailments, so hopefully I am on my way to recovery.
The issue? With the chest pain comes the anxiety. The panic attacks have been alive and kicking this week. Only now the dirty panic filled wench comes with a brand new symptom in her already full arsenal. For the first time ever, my panic attacks are affecting my breathing. I am getting immense pressure at the base of my throat. I always CAN breathe, but it gives the feeling like you aren’t going to be able to.
It is awful. And terrifying. And generally sucks more than anything I have ever experienced. I am getting an ultrasound of my thyroid on Monday just in case, but the doctor really thinks the throat issue is anxiety related. So now I have one more thing to fight my own body with. This game is really getting old.
I am really just over all of this. I would give a lot to go back to July 5th 2005, one day before my first panic attack. It was the last day I was truly free and I miss that carefree girl.
The One That I Struggle With Every Day
I struggle with anxiety.
I fight fear daily.
I have tried so many times to explain my panic attacks to various people.
Doctors. Family. Friends.
I try to make them see that my life is great. That I am not upset about anything. That there is nothing that I can really do to control it.
My attacks are mainly physical. I basically just let me head run away with little symptoms.
That little ache in my left calf? BLOOD CLOT.
The headache behind my right eye? TUMOR.
Swollen lymph node even though I was just sick? LYMPHOMA.
I don’t run to the doctor with all my little issues, I know deep down that they are crap. But in my head, for a few minutes…they are out of control.
I do try and avoid certain situations. I haven’t been on a plane since 2004, three months before my first panic attack. I am not scared of the plane crashing. I am not scared of the people. I am terrified of having a panic attack in public. Of not being able to leave if I wanted to. Of maybe, just maybe…actually having a heart attack, or a pulmonary embolism or any other host of issues that could occur. Of no one being there that could help me.
One of the main reasons I looked for jobs at the hospital? There is an emergency room right downstairs, with plenty of people around who are trained to HELP me if I need it. It’s so ridiculous.
When I go to a new place, I usually find where the nearest hospital is…just in case. Being in NYC this past August was incredibly difficult for me. I was there with no car, with no security net. Without my husband, without my rock. I got through it, but really only because I COULDN’T leave. I think I would have gone home if I could. Main reason I didn’t have a car? I was too scared to make the drive home alone.
I fight with this every single day. It is exhausting. I’m so tired of it.
They Are My Therapy
11:15 pm. I am laying in bed watching a movie featuring a gloriously good looking young man. I have to get up at 5:30am but I can’t sleep. I toss and turn, smushing my pillow this way and that under my head. I search for the cool spots on the bed with no luck, but I still keep our blanket covering most of me. I always sleep like that.
A familiar tingle runs up my spine and I pray that this wasn’t going to turn into a full blown panic attack. I feel my heart begin to speed up and I throw the covers off and sit on the edge of the bed, attempting to get my body back into control. I stand up and walk halfway down the hallway to the room that holds the two innocent lives that I am responsible for. I have to keep my shit together…I can’t lose it until someone else is here with them. I turn back and go into my bathroom instead, holding on to the counter for dear life. I look up into my reflection and see sheer terror in my eyes. I try to tell myself that I have felt like this before and didn’t die…but my head doesn’t listen. Everything in my body screams that this time is different. This time I will die.
I wish Jim was home.
I go down the stairs and turn the air conditioning up a few notches. I slowly walk back up the steps, trying to keep my heart rate from going any higher than it already is. My cell phone is tightly clenched in my fist, I need to have it near me in case I need it. I am headed back into my room when I decide to go in and look at the boys.
I step over the gate at their door and enter their room. I walk over to Jimmy’s crib first and gently rest my hand on his back. He arches against my hand and scoots his legs under his body bringing his little booty up in the air. I toss a light blanket over him and move on to Chase.
Chase has fallen asleep with 3 Matchbox Cars and a portion of their track. I pull all the toys out of his bed and slowly ease down beside him in his twin bed. Laying flat emphasizes how fast my heart is beating and my body is dying to get up. To move. To pace. Anything. I don’t move. I stay there and concentrate on the up and down of Chase’s chest. I concentrate on the warm weight of his head on my shoulder. I concentrate on them and once again, like so many other times, they save me.
Being A Parent Is Scary
Two weeks ago yesterday I took Chase to the doctor for a red swollen area behind his left ear. It looked a little hivey, but since nothing new had been introduced to him I figured we would go have it looked at. Chase’s pediatrician told us it was probably a reaction to a bug bite, and maybe it was a bit infected. We left the office with a ten day script for some antibiotics.
A couple days later the redness had spread some, so back into the doctor we went. We saw another doctor in the group, and he said it wasn’t anything he was very concerned about but to continue the antibiotics and add some Zyrtec to the mix to see if that helped. We gave him the Zyrec that afternoon and immediately saw a huge difference. We figured he got bit by a spider and had had a little allergic reaction, and maybe a bit of an infection. There was a big sigh of relief when the redness went down.
Chase finished his antibiotics last Saturday and this Wednesday I noticed a red splotch on his left cheek. Over the course of Wednesday and Thursday it across his cheek and the center took on a pale look to it while all around it was red.
Back into the doctor we went.
Diagnosis?
Lyme’s Disease.
We are fortunate that Chase presented with the bulls-eye rash. The theory is that the original redness was the tick bite being a bit infected, and now he is presenting the bulls-eye. The course of treatment is three weeks of oral antibiotics. He should be fine, it is highly unusual for there to be any issues after it has been caught so early.
I hate this part of being a parent. I hate the feeling in your stomach when you JUST KNOW something is not right. I hate watching the doctor examine my child. I hate having to give him medicine. I hate the idea that something could take him away from me.
Chase was lucky, but a lot of kids go undiagnosed until they become symptomatic. Check your kiddies before bed for ticks if you live in an area that Lyme’s is prevalent in. We live in an area where Lyme’s is hugely active and we are vigilant about checking the boys. However not all ticks latch, some just bite and fall off so watch any bites carefully.
In the mean time? I would like to wrap the boys head to toe in plastic wrap and ensure nothing gets in. Think I can do that? No? Damn.
Looking Back Down The Road We Came
When I was pregnant with Chase I spent HOURS online pouring over bedding, swings, bouncers, clothes and last but not least…the car seat/stroller combo. I won’t lie…I bought the car seat I did because it matched the pattern I had picked for the swing and pack-n-play. Luckily, it was a good seat and had the specifications on it that I would come to appreciate as I educated myself more.
When Chase was about 6 months old I found myself abruptly educated to the idea of extended rear facing. A friend of mine was in a bad accident and her son, 13 months old, was severely injured. He met the minimums to be forward facing (20lbs AND one year) and she had turned him on his first birthday thinking it was something fun and exciting to do. After the accident the doctors told her that had he still been rear facing, his injuries would have been minimal. Colin made it though the accident and after spending months in a halo he came home. She has become one of the most staunch rear facing advocates and begged me to leave Chase rear facing until he HAD to be turned.
There are tons of technical reasons why rear facing is safer for little people. The easiest way to explain it is that the bones in the neck don’t fuse completely until right around the age of 3. This leaves toddlers wide open for internal decapitation and a whole host of other spinal issues, especially due to their head to body proportions. Also, rear facing takes the force off of front end collisions. Yes, people get rear ended too…but head on and side impact accidents are so much more dangerous and generally more severe.
Last year the American Academy of Pediatrics stated that infants and toddlers were 75% more likely to be seriously injured or killed in a forward facing seat. They put out an official recommendation that children stay rear facing until the age of two.
That right there has been enough for me.
Chase was happily rear facing in a First Years True Fit until he turned two and hit the weight limit on his seat for rear facing(35lbs). Chase is in the 90th percentile for height and was quite comfortable. He sat cross legged in his seat, and to this day he still asks to sit in Jimmy’s seat, which is currently rear faced.
Jimmy is also rear facing in a True Fit and at 23lbs, he will be that way until he hits the weight or height limit.
There have been times when I considered turning them earlier. It is easier on the parent to have them facing forward…you can see them and hand things to them so much easier. My family thought I was nuts and some of them probably still do.
I don’t care. I want to see them play outside. I want to see them splash in the tub. I want to see them color and blow bubbles. I don’t want to see them in a halo with pins in their head. I don’t want to see them in years of physical therapy.
I feel there are so many things I don’t have any control over in my children’s safety. This is one thing I can do to help keep them safe.
What about you? What works for your family?
*Anyone with any car seat questions, feel free to email me. I’ll answer any installation questions I can!*
Rollar Coaster
My Dad is in the hospital.
Again.
He was admitted on Saturday and since then it has been a whirlwind of tests and procedures. I convinced him to go to Hottie Cardiologist, who is an amazing doctor, and he is making sure there is nothing missed. Something has to change. My father has been admitted at least once a month for the past year.
How can you live like that? I truly think he is scared to be at home at this point and I can’t say that I blame him. Everytime he doesn’t feel right he goes to the emergency room. And nine times out of ten he is admitted. He is miserable, and to top it off? He can’t afford all of these admissions. Co-pays are really hitting my parents hard.
It is really heart wrenching to see him try and deal with all this. He is frustrated and irritated and he doesn’t feel good. It is unbelievable to see how fast he went from someone with practically no main health issues to someone who basically lives in the hospital.
This all started when he retired and I maintain my original position.
It’s because he spends too much time with my mother. It’s a survival technique peeps.
The one where I talk about healthcare
I am not a politically outspoken person. I have my opinions about it, but unless you are a close friend chances are you won’t hear it. I vote, but I don’t make a huge announcement out of it.
However I feel the need to voice my opinion on the HUGE debate going on with health care in our country right now. Yesterday on my way to work there were two men standing on a main corner in my town holding signs touting how horrible our president is and how the health care bill is such a bad thing.
I am not going to lie. I don’t know the nitty gritty of the bill. I know some of the basics and have picked up on some info simply because I work in a hospital and it is talked about often. I don’t have a super dramatic story about how I was denied coverage for a pre-existing condition. I don’t follow CNN’s every moment. I just know MY story and how I wish that there had been more options for me.
I was uninsured for most of my adult life.
My husband didn’t have insurance for 10 years.
I stopped going to school full time at 19, so I lost my benefits that were carried by my parents insurance plan. I was on my own. I truly didn’t care much, I really don’t get sick much and I was 19….invincible. I worked FULL TIME. I PAID TAXES. I was not a “lush”. I was not “scamming the system”. My job simply did not offer benefits that were anywhere near affordable and they did not pay for any portion of them. I worked as a waitress…restaurant jobs are great for quick money, not so great for benefits.
There were a couple times during the years between 19 and 24 that having insurance would have helped me greatly. Like when I contracted pneumonia and waited until I was so sick that I had to be admitted to the hospital because I was hoping it would get better on it’s own. Like all the times I had to push through protesters to get into Planned Parenthood to pick up birth control so I could be responsible, since I couldn’t afford to go to a regular OBGYN. Like the days of agonizing pain when I had cavities that there was no way I could pay a dentist to fix. There were so many times…
When I was 24 I became pregnant with Chase. A friend of mine told me to apply for state insurance to cover me while I was pregnant. I did a pre-screening and found out I made about 200$ a month too much. I had to WORK LESS to be eligible. Is that scamming the system? I don’t know. But it was my only option.
Chase was born and after my 6 week postpartum appointment I was kicked off state insurance, but he was able to stay on…provided I only made a certain amount. I was a bartender at this point and now stuck between making enough money to help support my family…or making too much money and my child not being insured. It was a really hard place to be. I hated being CAPABLE of making more money…but not able to.
When Chase was 9 months old I became pregnant with Jimmy and back on state insurance I went. This time after he was born, since we were now a family of 4, I was able to continue on with state insurance for a while. I was able to stay home with my boys and only work Friday and Sundays. I was my children’s primary caregiver and it made me so happy to be in that roll.
When Jimmy was 6 months old I had to make a decision. We needed to be making more money…but if we made more money the boys and I would be kicked off the insurance policy.I priced out buying insurance for the family privately and it was upwards of 600$ A MONTH. I was floored. There was no way we could pay that.
I talked with a good friend of mine and she agreed to take the boys a couple days a week for me for a very low fee. I was SO LUCKY in finding the job that I did, it is truly a blessing. Working at the hospital has brought me a lot of joy in that I love my job. I love being able to provide benefits for my whole family. I love being in a health care setting.
I love being with my kids more. If there had been insurance offered by my husband’s job…I’d still be a stay at home mom. If there had been an affordable option for us to purchase…I would be a stay at home mom. Instead I am out of my children’s presence more than I am in it. I pass them off with a kiss every afternoon on my way to work. I rarely see my husband, as I try to work on his days off to cut down their time away from their parents.
We never wanted to be on state provided insurance, we weren’t trying to milk the system. However the system that is in place is not for us. We worked our asses off… and for all intensive purposes we were punished for it by making too much.
I don’t know what the solution is. I don’t know if this bill is it. I do know that someone needs to be done. I do think that health insurance is something that should be afforded to everyone. I think that the number of people in this country who can’t go to the doctor when they are sick is atrocious. I think the number of people cluttering up emergency rooms with simple illnesses just because it is there only option is horrendous. I think that while my Canadian friends will readily admit their system is not perfect, they are damned grateful for it.
If it is your right to carry a gun…it damned well better be MY right to get sewn up when someone shoots me and not owe for the rest of my life due to it.
That’s my opinion.
Thinking Hurts My Brain…And My Heart
I have an appointment next Monday that I have been putting off for a long time.
The Dermatologist.
When I was pregnant with Chase my skin went through some caaaa-razy changes. I stressed over each and every one at first, and then pretty much just started ignoring all of them. Ya know…skin tags, blotches..all that highly glamorous stuff women deal with while growing a human.
However there was one skin occurance that was worrisome to me. A small lesion appeared on my chest, right between the ladies. When I say small..I mean SMALL. It is completely flesh colored, and much easier to feel than see. Over the last two years it has gotten bigger, but is still very small. There are actually three very small lesions of the same type there now. This is an area that I had frequent sunburns as a kid.
I ignored it and ignored it because that’s what I do.I don’t like going to the doctor and I like it even less when something could actually be wrong. I try to keep my head from running to the worst possible scenario but it does anyway. Google is not helping the situation at all, and for someone prone to panic attacks this is really just setting me over the edge.
I am praying that Dr.Skin has an answer for me. I am hoping there is something that he can tell me before he chops off a piece of my skin to be biopsied. If I have to wait for results with no indication of what is going on, I might truly lose it. I really don’t have it in me to deal with this. I’m emotionally exhausted and I can’t stop thinking about it.
What if I let it go too long?
What if it is cancer?
What will I do?
So people, I am asking for something I have never asked for before. I never thought I would ever ask anyone to do this for me.
PRAY.
Pray it’s a wart.
Helpless
This past year has had it’s moments. There has been times when I literally wanted to burn my laptop and never open it again, I just couldn’t handle any more of my friends in pain. I was an outsider on the most part, new to Twitter and blogging (publicly at least) and I hadn’t yet found my “tribe”. At least not here.
However, for the three years I have been blessed to be a member of the most close knit group of friends that I could ever imagine. We met on a message board when we were pregnant with our “big kids” and have been a constant presence in each others lives ever since.
We cry together, we laugh together. We vent about our spouses, we talk about all the gross pregnancy and after baby stuff there is to talk about. Cause dood…men just can’t handle all that.
This week I have felt helpless. Helpless that one of MY girls was suffering and I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t, no matter how hard I tried, reach through the computer and hug her. I couldn’t ( for many reasons) get on a plane and go be with her after the devastating and unexpected loss of her mother.
I just don’t know how to help her.
I’m helpless.
Oh What A Night
Dear 2010,
This is not a good start between you and I. I thought we had talked about this sort of behavior and I was confident we had come to an agreement.
Do you not remember the discussion about your bitch ass friend, 2009? I’m fairly sure that 2009 was in cahoots with the insurance companies, with all the co-pays that were reaped from my friends and family in the hospital.
So 2010, starting the year with my Dad being admitted to the hospital with Acute Respiratory Failure and the Exacerbation of COPD was not the proper way to get off on the right foot with me. Seeing his O2 levels dropping lower and lower even though he was on a breathing treatment was not the way I wanted to spend my Monday. Listening to him try to talk, when he was barely getting enough air to survive was not part of the plan.
You are dammed luck 2010, that he is doing better this morning. While he has a long way to go,and this will likely be a long long winter on his weak lungs, he seems to be out of crisis at the moment. Hopefully his heart will be able to keep up with the extra work it is taking him to breathe.
2010? I’ve got your ass on notice. Consider yourself warned.
Follow Me
Grab the Badge
Blog Love And Bling
For A Special Girl
