- C
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Well, hi there. Thank you for checking out my story and for your support.
The doctor calls it, "pericardit-something." I call it, "pain I would not wish upon my worst enemy."
But let me explain...
In the first week of January, after a six-month battle to win the heart of a new boss, I was sacked. Waking up the next day realizing that a twenty-year career is over has a deleterious effect on one's morale... And checkbook.
A friend needed a fence built that weekend, and I needed some money and to get out of the house. At this point, I believe it was a perfect storm or mental, emotional, and physical elements that caused me to be the most ill I have ever felt--Death in a clammy meat sack.
I am still apologizing to those who took care of me during this time. By the end of the third day, it felt as if I might just survive the ordeal. Ha ha! That is what I get for thinking. Around 4:30 the next morning, I awoke from dreams of floating in a sea of tears to find that I had soaked my bed in sweat and was shivering from the cold. I also became acutely aware of a sharp pain in my chest, a 5 bordering on 6 with that scale the people in white coats use.
I managed to slosh out of bed, wash up a bit, and add sweats to a chilled form. On the couch, I awaited the early bird roommates for comfort. As I waited, the pain ratcheted from a really annoying 5-6 to an oh my god, this is how John Hurt died in _Alien_ 8-9. I called to my roommates and was, with some chaos, shuttled to the nearest ER.
I must say, the people of the Swedish ER in Mill Creek must have studied at NASCAR. Also, 5:00-ish in the morning is a really good time to go if you manage to time your first cardiac event properly.
In good hands, with fluids, meds, and wires in and on me, I started to relax, though the nitro tablets tasted funny and that whole murderous pain thing really kept me from enjoying the attention.
When one of the doctors asked me what I was feeling, "heart on fire" did not seem to do it justice, so instead I described the small imp, clutching at my collarbone with one taloned claw while the other one had punched a hole in my chest wall and had seized at the center of my heart and claimed it for itself.
The EEG came back, and everyone agreed that a heart attack was happening and that I needed to be shipped the Edmonds just as quickly as possible. It was now drive time on I-5. Yay.
Eventually the ambulance made it to Edmonds, and I was wheeled into a suite that was ripped right out of St. Lucy's hospital on Ariel. I was laid on a table where my right arm was strapped down and some disembodied voices sugessted that I try not to move for the next chunk of time. Apparently, to disengage imps from your chest wall, modern medicine says to shove balloons at the ends of wires into your wrist and push them to your heart then use the ballons to scare it off of you.
Honestly, it seemed to help. The next twenty-four hours in the hospital were less than fun, and the pain spiked back up to an 8 after the ultrasound, but since, I am doing better.
The virus I had apparently stressed the heart sac and some of the heart muscle. On top of that, my heart is only pumping 25-30% of the blood it's supposed to. Joy.
Many doctors' visits and meds later, I am on the mend. Salt seems to attract heart-harvesting imps, so way less of that for me.
Feeling better yet still unemployed, the bills are starting to really pile up, and I could use the support. The final tally is close to $7,000 currently, but I still have some more visits and meds to deal with, not to mention taxes and other sundry things like rent and food. Unemployment is a pittance, and my former employer or the insurance from it is neither required nor willing to help, so I turn to you. Anything helps and added together, I can make a resonable dent as I work to become a fully functioning and productive member of society again. Those closest to me have rallied and have borne some of the strain as well. It is important to me to give back to them as well. Thank you one and all for any pledge you can make. Thank you.
The doctor calls it, "pericardit-something." I call it, "pain I would not wish upon my worst enemy."
But let me explain...
In the first week of January, after a six-month battle to win the heart of a new boss, I was sacked. Waking up the next day realizing that a twenty-year career is over has a deleterious effect on one's morale... And checkbook.
A friend needed a fence built that weekend, and I needed some money and to get out of the house. At this point, I believe it was a perfect storm or mental, emotional, and physical elements that caused me to be the most ill I have ever felt--Death in a clammy meat sack.
I am still apologizing to those who took care of me during this time. By the end of the third day, it felt as if I might just survive the ordeal. Ha ha! That is what I get for thinking. Around 4:30 the next morning, I awoke from dreams of floating in a sea of tears to find that I had soaked my bed in sweat and was shivering from the cold. I also became acutely aware of a sharp pain in my chest, a 5 bordering on 6 with that scale the people in white coats use.
I managed to slosh out of bed, wash up a bit, and add sweats to a chilled form. On the couch, I awaited the early bird roommates for comfort. As I waited, the pain ratcheted from a really annoying 5-6 to an oh my god, this is how John Hurt died in _Alien_ 8-9. I called to my roommates and was, with some chaos, shuttled to the nearest ER.
I must say, the people of the Swedish ER in Mill Creek must have studied at NASCAR. Also, 5:00-ish in the morning is a really good time to go if you manage to time your first cardiac event properly.
In good hands, with fluids, meds, and wires in and on me, I started to relax, though the nitro tablets tasted funny and that whole murderous pain thing really kept me from enjoying the attention.
When one of the doctors asked me what I was feeling, "heart on fire" did not seem to do it justice, so instead I described the small imp, clutching at my collarbone with one taloned claw while the other one had punched a hole in my chest wall and had seized at the center of my heart and claimed it for itself.
The EEG came back, and everyone agreed that a heart attack was happening and that I needed to be shipped the Edmonds just as quickly as possible. It was now drive time on I-5. Yay.
Eventually the ambulance made it to Edmonds, and I was wheeled into a suite that was ripped right out of St. Lucy's hospital on Ariel. I was laid on a table where my right arm was strapped down and some disembodied voices sugessted that I try not to move for the next chunk of time. Apparently, to disengage imps from your chest wall, modern medicine says to shove balloons at the ends of wires into your wrist and push them to your heart then use the ballons to scare it off of you.
Honestly, it seemed to help. The next twenty-four hours in the hospital were less than fun, and the pain spiked back up to an 8 after the ultrasound, but since, I am doing better.
The virus I had apparently stressed the heart sac and some of the heart muscle. On top of that, my heart is only pumping 25-30% of the blood it's supposed to. Joy.
Many doctors' visits and meds later, I am on the mend. Salt seems to attract heart-harvesting imps, so way less of that for me.
Feeling better yet still unemployed, the bills are starting to really pile up, and I could use the support. The final tally is close to $7,000 currently, but I still have some more visits and meds to deal with, not to mention taxes and other sundry things like rent and food. Unemployment is a pittance, and my former employer or the insurance from it is neither required nor willing to help, so I turn to you. Anything helps and added together, I can make a resonable dent as I work to become a fully functioning and productive member of society again. Those closest to me have rallied and have borne some of the strain as well. It is important to me to give back to them as well. Thank you one and all for any pledge you can make. Thank you.