(Painting by G. Gercken)
So, it was a weekend. A hormonal, rainy, anxiety ridden, yucky weekend. I stayed at home all weekend, with the exception of Walmart and walking to the mailbox.
I haven’t updated, or maybe I have. The MRI was normal. The ECHO was normal. Heart Doc wants to do a Tilt Table Test, which I refused- so I don’t have to go back until the end of the year to make sure my blood pressure has recouped from the Prednisone. I go to a Lupus specialist at the end of March and I guess we’ll go from there.
I’m still hanging on at 138lbs. On Christmas Eve, I weighed 158.
As far as how I feel? I feel okay. Not good, not well. Just okay. I’ve been off of the Prednisone for 2 days and I’m not achy anymore. Or yet anyway. I still feel unbalanced. Super swimmy today. Some days are better than others. My ears feel full, I swear I can hear water in them. I am SUPER anxious and getting hot flashes like a mofo. These bring the palps, or vise versa, I’m not so sure how all that works, but either way, the palps can cause major panic attacks. While I realize this is the chain of events, sometimes I just cannot convince myself that everything is cool. Discomfort, not danger. Yes, sometimes, that just goes out of the window. I’m conflicted about the vertigo and anxiety. I’m not so sure what’s happening to me now isn’t full fledged anxiety attacks. But, I just don’t know. I don’t have the nausea and throwing up that I had with the first two true vertigo “attacks” but I do have the heart turning over in my chest, you’re about to see something terrible happen, sensation. The same one I got both times with true vertigo. My vision is still blurred. Even my new glasses don’t help, and don’t get me started in the struggle bus that are bifocals. Whew.
I. Can’t. Even.
I really feel like I’m going crazy when I have my period. OMGosh. Those shifty bastards of hormones I have or don’t have and need, whatever is the case, those guys are really tweaking my nerves.
Anyway, I did have a few good days last week, even went and walked a lap at the track on the way to pick Little up from school. Just one, and only for 2 days because for some reason or another we’re in the middle of a freaking monsoon season in South Carolina.
I haven’t felt like going out or having company. I just want to be still and hibernate in my blankets. Philip has been supportive, though sometimes I feel like he’s annoyed with me. Or bummed I won’t come out, or bummed I don’t want company. I just don’t want to be seen that way. I try to talk to him about it. I tell him what’s going on, how I feel. I tell him about the nightmares and not knowing if I’m dreaming about passing out or if I’m indeed passing out. I tell him about it all.
He usually doesn’t say much.
Or he changes the subject.
When I talk about my health, I feel like I’m complaining. Lamenting. Whining. Like I should just suck it up and put on a happy face and just do. And most of the time I try to do that. I sure as hell want to be the person I was a year ago. Planning for Jamaica. Happy and carefree and healthy. I’m just not there yet. Not yet.
They say we all go thru seasons.