fear.
so, tomorrow i have an appt w/ a cardiologist.
my recovery from my, uh, attack almost two months ago has been progressing well. i sleep through the vast majority of most nights, now, and my heart rate... on the whole-picture average... has started to steady. i still def have bad days, but i recover from them faster and faster.
i've been really tired lately and it's been bothering me. i wake up okay in the mornings, but then a few hours later i'm just physically exhausted. i don't know. i feel like it's a flu that doesn't go away.
this cardiologist thing has me pretty scared, though. it's just precautionary-- when i went to the e.r. they ran about three or four ekg's and they came back STELLAR. like, the technician and the doctor were both like, "yea your heart has another ninety years on it." so, comforting piece of evidence number one. also if anything had been/was now really wrong i would know about it and would already be in hospital. comforting piece of evidence number two.
but i'm fucking petrified. i just picture her finding a murmur or some other terrible thing and i can't get it out of my mind. i'm trying. hard. i feel like i've become obsessive compulsive hypochondriac and i hate it.
i don't know. i know it'll be fine.
it'll be fine.
i'm fine. i'm fine. i'm fine. i'm fine. i'm fine. i'm fine. i'm fine. i'm fine. i'm fine. i'm fine.
whatever. i'm just pissed and tired of feeling like this. i'm tired of being a burden on xander. i'm twenty fucking four years old, and i just refuse to live like this.
okay so then, of course, when she tells me that my heart is perfectly happy and healthy right where it is, why is it that it's beating the way it is? if she just says, "relax," i'm afraid i'll have to laugh. i'm fuckin' trying, and still my back, neck, shoulders, and chest feel like a straight jacket.
so we'll see. should be fun.
o, i'm going to england in two-ish weeks. x is going for business, staying a few extra days, and i'm saying "fuck you" to the children and the STAR test and i'm out. why not?
my recovery from my, uh, attack almost two months ago has been progressing well. i sleep through the vast majority of most nights, now, and my heart rate... on the whole-picture average... has started to steady. i still def have bad days, but i recover from them faster and faster.
i've been really tired lately and it's been bothering me. i wake up okay in the mornings, but then a few hours later i'm just physically exhausted. i don't know. i feel like it's a flu that doesn't go away.
this cardiologist thing has me pretty scared, though. it's just precautionary-- when i went to the e.r. they ran about three or four ekg's and they came back STELLAR. like, the technician and the doctor were both like, "yea your heart has another ninety years on it." so, comforting piece of evidence number one. also if anything had been/was now really wrong i would know about it and would already be in hospital. comforting piece of evidence number two.
but i'm fucking petrified. i just picture her finding a murmur or some other terrible thing and i can't get it out of my mind. i'm trying. hard. i feel like i've become obsessive compulsive hypochondriac and i hate it.
i don't know. i know it'll be fine.
it'll be fine.
i'm fine. i'm fine. i'm fine. i'm fine. i'm fine. i'm fine. i'm fine. i'm fine. i'm fine. i'm fine.
whatever. i'm just pissed and tired of feeling like this. i'm tired of being a burden on xander. i'm twenty fucking four years old, and i just refuse to live like this.
okay so then, of course, when she tells me that my heart is perfectly happy and healthy right where it is, why is it that it's beating the way it is? if she just says, "relax," i'm afraid i'll have to laugh. i'm fuckin' trying, and still my back, neck, shoulders, and chest feel like a straight jacket.
so we'll see. should be fun.
o, i'm going to england in two-ish weeks. x is going for business, staying a few extra days, and i'm saying "fuck you" to the children and the STAR test and i'm out. why not?