What started out as a pretty good day turned really, really bad, really, really quick. I had just watched The Bachelorette episode I missed last night and I thought it was time I did some homework. So I got to work on my assignment and was highlighting away. There I am tapping away at my keyboard about 30 minutes into the assignment – and I must stress that I felt NO stress, pressure, anxiety or anything of that nature of this assignment or about anything while doing this assignment – when all of a sudden my heart start racing. I’m just sitting there, mind you. With a stinking highlighter in my hand. I try to ignore it. I take some deep breaths and focus on the writing. But then I notice it’s harder to breath, then it’s getting harder to see because the room is spinning. I grab my cell and rush into the bedroom and crouch over my bed as I frantically hold down the speed dial for my grandma. Thankfully she lives next door and was home. I yelled “GET OVER HERE” and then hung up before I nearly lost my breath. I couldn’t have said anymore, really. I was panting. She forced me outside thinking I was hyperventilating. About ten minutes into the “attack” or “spell,” it began easing up. But this time, unlike last time, I didn’t feel so relieved. I was fed up. I haven’t smelled that smoke smell in over a week, and even though I had a migraine this weekend, I had niavely put this behind me thinking perhaps that it had been something that had occured in passing and wouldn’t happen again. And if, in the future it did, I would deal with it then. But the future didn’t mean so soon, because I really hate that feeling of not having control of my own conciousness.
I made my grandmother drive me to my doctor’s office. I didn’t even call for an appointment. I was set on walking in there and demanding on seeing him. He was going to fix this, I kept telling her. But I made it to the receptionist’s desk, and that was about it, really. I had about two sentences out when all I could manage to say was “I can’t stand…” and I dropped to the floor in a puddle of tears. I felt like I was one of those rides where the elevator drops you. They put me in a wheelchair and took me back – no questions asked. But what scared me so much about that moment was the last time this happened I was able to drive myself to the doctors, drive myself to another doctors to be fitted for a holter monitor, drive to Walgreens to fill a prescription, and then drive home and care for two kids. This time, I couldn’t even stand on my own two legs. The whole time I’m there I’m doubting myself, I’m thinking maybe I should’ve went to the ER. And I think now that I should’ve because Dr. dumbo couldn’t help me in the end. They did do an ekg and finally concurred with me that it is not my heart. He does think it sounds like dysautonomia. They tried to rush me into my neurologist but the guy’s only in office on Fridays. Understandably he’s a bit booked. He’s in sleep lab the rest of the week – when he’s not teaching. I always end up with the teaching docs – and I worry that i’m on their whiteboards on some morning lecture. Case Study: Female – 28 – Syncope – smells smoke – is this for real? But I would gladly be the morning lecture if it’s means the next person doesn’t have to experience the incompetince I’ve experience thus far.
I see Dr. Neuro for my pre-scheduled “Let’s see how Topamax is doing” appointment on July 18th. He’s in for one heck of a ride when he enters that exam room. If I make it that long. Next time this happens… I don’t know. I’m just worried that if it happens at work like it did this morning, they’ll have no choice but to call 911.