Lucky Not-a-Stroke

On Tuesday, August 18th, 2009, I was not feeling very well. I could tell my blood pressure was up and my feet looked like they belonged to the Michelin Man. So, I decided to go to the doctor on the way in to work.

I arrived, paid my copay and waited...and waited...and waited. People who came in after me (even walk-ins) were going in before me. Then the receptionist called me to the window and informed me that I had a $60 balance from a previous visit and they needed to collect at least $40 of it that day. I told her I had $5 left on my debit card and maybe $3 in my pocket. She said "just a minute" and went into the back. Shortly thereafter she came back to the window and said that that would be ok (they would take the approximately $8 I had left and I could be seen by the doctor). I was stressed already and said I needed to make a phone call. I started to call my husband, but before he could pick up, I hung up the phone and told the receptionist that they could keep the $15 I had paid towards the bill and that I would be back to see them on Friday when I got paid.

By this time I was visibly upset. I turned to go and she said, "Ms. B, just a minute." I held up a hand "talk to the hand" style, said, "I can't," and proceeded to leave the office. By the time I got to my car, I was hacking like I was going to throw up. My heart was racing and I was gasping for air. (DH thinks I was having a panic attack at this point...although he was at home with the kids.)

I probably should have gone to the hospital, but all I could think of was getting to work, because it was already past the 2 hrs prior to shift deadline in order to call in.

Parking really, really sucks where I work. I parked in a slightly "not approved" spot, but shoot, I wasn't going to walk up the long hill feeling the way I did. As I walked to my cottage, my eyes were swimming and I was walking...not weaving, but not in a straight line either.

The first shift nurse (LPN) was there and I asked her to take my blood pressure. She did and said, "just a minute" and went to get the RN. She came in and took my bp again and informed me that it was 212/110. This information did nothing for my racing heart and labored breathing. My lips had been going numb and were hard to move. Once or twice I remember sticking a finger or two into my mouth to separate my lips. My right hand was becoming hard to move.

More and more people started coming into the room. I remember calling my supervisor and telling her what was going on, saying, "I didn't want people to think I was a 'no-call, no-show'." HOW STUPID IS THAT? I was close to having a stroke and I was worried about how it would affect my job! The nurse asked if I wanted them to call and ambulance and I said I didn't think it was necessary. They arranged to have a co-worker take me to the hospital, as I had my family's only car with me. I was taken out to the car in a wheelchair, because the medical staff didn't want me walking.

Originally one of the nurses was going to take me, but when she asked someone to clock her out, the coordinator said that she would have to stay and clock out herself. So someone from 1st shift in the cottage in which I work took me. I babbled incessantly on the way to the ER, I suppose trying to keep myself together.

More to come tomorrow....

New Year's Resolutions

OK. First of all, I know it's not New Year's Eve. :) My birthday is tomorrow and I have been doing a lot of reflecting on my life and my future. So I thought this would be a good day to fire up the Mapsco of my mind and chart a direction for my new year's journey. To that end, here are my resolutions:

1. I will live life with more juice and less fear.
I have been trying to pinpoint where fear began to rule my life. Apparently I used to be h-e-double-toothpicks on wheels; my mother used to tell me when I was a baby, my brother (22 months older) would climb into the playpen to get away from me. *lol* Maybe it was my tricycle going out of control down a hill and crashing into a neighbors yard, maybe it was falling down the wooden steps to the concrete floor of my childhood home basement, maybe it was that dream of getting pulled into the wall by a Star Trek alien, maybe it was moving to "the big city" when I was 9 and having to find new friends ... the list could go on for HOURS.

The "juice" reference, of course, is from Sark. To me, this means living life like you were opening a just-right ripe orange. You dig your fingers into the rind and peel it back, and a wonderful aroma fills the immediate area. You peel off those last little bits of rind and flick them into the compost with the rest of the peel. (Of course, you can make an "orange crown" from the rind and let your kids run around with it on their heads for a while first. *lol-LOVE that childhood memory*) . You stick your thumb into one end of the orange and begin to separate the slices and in doing so, some sweet juice squirts out on your fingers...and it's "no biggie" because you can lick it off. And then you stick the slices into your mouth, bite into them and savor the flavor!

2. I will be healthier in mind and body...and finances.
By this time tomorrow, I will be 47 years old. Thirty years ago, my father had a stroke when he was 47 and passed away a week later. He hated his job, but he did it because he was good at it and it paid the bills. Although I didn't smoke in young adulthood, as he did, job-wise I find myself in an eerily similar situation. I am a patient aide to adults with MR/DD (mental retardation and developmental disabilities). The work is physically and mentally challenging, but can be very rewarding as well. The troubles come from teams of "experts" making up programs for our people, when these experts do not take the time to get to know them as individuals.

For example, we used to buy "puff corn" as a snack for some of the ladies in my home. It was recently the target of a blanket ban, with the experts saying it was not in the ladies' dining plans, either by consistency or calories count. We asked, what about "C", who bought it every time we went to the coffee shop? The "expert" told us that she would be unable to express her desire for puff corn ... because she couldn't talk! (Neither could we when we heard this, because our jaws had collectively dropped to the floor.) We're really stuck between a rock and a hard place. Again, I could go on for hours on end, but that is fodder for another post at another time.

As a result of the job stress, I took up smoking. Not healthy, I KNOW, but preferable to drinking or putting my fist through a wall. I am not a violent person. I would rather run from a conflict than come to blows. But there comes a time when we must turn and fight ... the "why" is different for each person.

In addition to the stress, I struggle with depression...and have for nearly three decades. Right now, I take Cymbalta. Over the years, I have found there is a LOT of prejudice against people with mental illness issues, and I used to hesitate to mention my depression in public - on- or offline. Now, even though I'd rather NOT be having to take medication for depression at all, I do it because without it, I am like a diabetic without insulin.

So, I resolve to find other ways to deal with stress and depression - like walks in the park, maybe a nice massage or two ... you get the idea. *BIG SMILE*

As far as the finances go ... well, I'm just tired of living paycheck to paycheck. I'm tired of my family doing without ... and I THANK GOD FOR EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THE FAMILY AND FRIENDS who have helped us out from time to time.

I don't want this post to be about commercialism. But to the point of padding the family paycheck, I have begun selling Mia Bella soy/vegetable candles. I'd love to give you more information if you would like. And, with a nod to Forrest Gump, "that's all I'm going to say about that" ... for now.

Thanks for reading. :)