The human body is fascinating in so many ways and just bloody crazy in others. After getting settled in our new home and the successful completion of the dreaded April 19th, I was convinced I would feel super chilled and all round awesome again.
I didn’t.
High Blood pressure decided to pay me a visit and on the advice of my GP, I was to record my BP twice a day, for 7 days. As a person who has always had low to normal results, I was confused by my daily high results now.
My GP didn’t seem bothered. It didn’t matter that these new readings were abnormally high for me. 136/99 didn’t seem to warrant their action or concern. When I can hear my own pulse in my ear so loudly I can’t sleep, I was concerned so I decided to visit a private GP.
Kind receptionists, free tea, coffee and hot chocolate while you wait. A GP that comes to the waiting area and greets you and escorts you to their office with a smile. It was like another world.
She didn’t rush me, or sweep my concerns under the carpet. She listened and at one stage, advised me that I had humbled her and acknowledged the colossal amount of medical trauma I have and still deal with today.
Shortly after this appointment, I received a letter from cardiology with the results from my heart monitor. During the 24 hour assessment, there were episodes of sinus tachycardia and VEs and SVEs noted.
This means what? I refuse to Google all that and scare myself stupid.
I will be seeing the private GP again next week to review my blood test results that she arranged. I will also take my letter from cardiology with me and hopefully she can explain these results to me.
I’m feeling quite trapped by all these ailments and unknowns. I just want to feel well and in truth I have not felt well in years. Even the relaxation techniques touted by all and sundry, feel out of reach. I can’t close my eyes properly. I can’t relax in silent meditation, as the sound of my own pulse pounding in my head keeps me awake. I’m clearly destined not to chill out.
I wake up anxious, drag myself through the day with all sorts of unsettling feelings and sensations, running through my body, then fall into my bed relieved that I’m still alive but too nervous to sleep. Rinse and repeat.
It’s the next morning. I’m on the school run. A smiling mummy meets my gaze and says “Morning’ how ya doing?”.
I know I’m not crazy but I can see why others may question it. If people knew what my brain was really like, they would cross the street to avoid me or at the very least, never engage in chit chat again. Crap, say something! Anything!
“Fine thanks, you?”
I’m an idiot. I’m far from fine but how do you even begin to open that can of worms? You can’t put them all back in once they’re everywhere.
I hate worms.