These last few weeks have been a complete blur. My daughter’s school year has started with a bang and all her activities are definitely keeping me on my toes.
This year, she is trying her hand at a few extra curricular clubs for the first time: French, singing and dance. These clubs, running alongside normal school days, trips and themed events, is quite a calendar. I’m so thankful for my trusty wall organiser and my many colourful magnets. Seriously, how do mums cope without the storage facility that is the fridge door? Leaflets, posters, menus, reminders and important dates are all on there…somewhere.
Knowing what books, bags and outfits to pack for what day is quite a task. We have had the first school trip of the term, crazy hair and sock day and the Harvest Festival drive already. With tickets purchased for the fireworks display and the December panto trip paid for, I’m managing to keep up. Returning the Christmas card design in time for print, signing her up for the flu vaccine in December and oh yes – her nurses outfit for Friday’s themed day is ready to go. It’s a lot, I can’t lie.
Currently I’m occupied most days looking for another house to rent as our landlord has given us notice that she wants to move back in. My husband is working every hour available to make sure we have a decent deposit in place for when we find somewhere.
Next week I will finally be seeing my optician for the first time since my RP diagnosis in 2019. He has known me since the 90s so he is in for a shock. I’m taking my daughter too and as much as I’m trying to focus on the fact that my specialist said she would be fine, I can’t shake the fact that I was once told that too. Look how that turned out.
I guess with all that going on it’s not a huge surprise that today, I experienced the worst panic attack I have ever had in my life. I had just collected some Halloween party things ahead of October 31st and had just called my husband to arrange a lift home when it happened.
At the checkout, I was lightheaded, breathless and getting hotter by the second. I stuffed my purchases in my bag and headed for the escalator. Stripping off as I made my way down to the carpark, I shoved my coat and jumper into my shopping bag and found somewhere to lean. My eyes were going funny. My chest was tight. I thought I was going to pass out. I felt like I was having an out of body experience. I found myself scratching my shoulder in an effort to bring myself back into the present and only stopped when I realised I had broken the skin!
Still feeling woozy I bundled myself and all my stuff into my husband’s car, opened all the windows and tried to breathe myself out of vomiting everywhere. I cried. I hate this.
I hadn’t eaten since the night before so that can’t have helped. My peripheral vision was fizzing which only caused the panic to worsen. Finally at home forcing myself to eat and drink something, I felt completely exhausted as all the sensations started to subside. I lay on my bed completely spent by the whole ordeal. My brain drowning in questions;
- What was that?
- Why did that happen?
- What if I fainted in public?
- What if my husband hadn’t been there?
- Did my eyes just deteriorate?
- Has it stopped?
- Will it happen again?
- Is it safe to leave the house?
Luckily I was able to compose myself and collect my daughter from school, attend my pre-arranged meeting with her singing teacher and head home and cook dinner for us all and clear up. What a day.
I got my Brave sticker when my daughter last went to the GP months ago. He gave my girl a sticker then said “Looks like your mummy deserves one too”. I’m busy, stressed, overwhelmed and scared on a daily basis at the moment. Am I brave? No. Did I survive? Just.