Continued

So, I waited and waited for the armpit discomfort to go away. I wasn't sleeping and couldn't relax. I also was sure I was developing a sinus infection from the allergies. I was not at peace and knew it was not sustainable. Something had to change. Eventually I screwed up the courage to call my gynecologist for a mammogram prescription and got that taken care of. Clear, no issues. I was not surprised by the result, but relieved, obviously. Now, I want you to understand how much I hate medical anything. I hate calling for appointments, I hate the waiting, I hate the paperwork, I hate the exams, I hate the tests, I hate the waiting for results. I hate all of it. So for me to do this was kind of a big deal. Of course, each time I do something like this it gets easier and that's good. So overall it was a positive, but it was stressful and not fun and I didn't enjoy it. But at least I could check one Very Bad Thing off of my list of things to worry about. And eventually the discomfort mostly subsided on its own, as I knew it would. 

Next was the allergies. I have had seasonal allergies and asthma for as long as I can remember. It's pesky but generally no worse. But in the last couple of years the congestion has gotten bad enough that I've had sinus numbness, pain, and, eventually, infection. I thought this time if I kept taking Benadryl at night and Flonase twice a day I could stave off the infection, but it didn't work. It got to the point where I was miserable and cranky and had a horrible headache and I knew I had an infection. This was a dilemma because it would force me to make another doctor's appointment. I know that for most people this would not be a thing. Most people would just do it, go, and get it taken care of. But like I said above, I have a phobia about doctors. I have never in my adult life had a regular doctor and consistent medical care. My last physical, necessary for my visa to go to Spain, was awful. I got a clean bill of health and eventually the paperwork I needed, but the office was terrible, the doctor was surly, and I spent about four hours total in the clinic. I did not want ever to go back there. However, I noticed before Spain that a new primary care was opening in our town, in the same plaza with our primary grocery store. I called and managed after a lot of preliminary chitchat to make an appointment for early the next week. I was so proud of myself and pleased to have switched primary care offices. I was sorry to have to wait four more days for relief from what I knew to be a sinus infection, but that seemed small. 

I showed up at my appointment as nervous as I always am about doctor's visits, perhaps even more so. The facility was shiny and new and the receptionist was super-nice and did her best to put me at ease, but I've never felt ease waiting for a doctor appointment. Let me be completely honest. Part of my issue is that I hate being weighed. This is another big, huge, stupid thing but I've had body issues my entire life and I hate being weighed. But I've noticed that if I don't look at the scale usually they won't say anything out loud and I can just pretend that the weighing never happened. And that approach worked just fine in this case. But things went wrong just a minute later when the med tech told me my blood pressure was measuring high. I didn't really know what to say. I haven't historically had high blood pressure, but considering how much I was freaking out it seemed kind of understandable to me. Now, again, my brain knows that plenty of people have high blood pressure, and it is nothing to be ashamed of and it can be dealt with, but my heart felt like this was a major failing on my part. It was my fault--surely, I hadn't been eating well enough or exercising enough. Neither of which was true! I eat healthy and I exercise all the time. But I couldn't shake the shame and negative feelings about the situation. I mentally balled up into a fetal position and waited out the tech's visit. Soon the nurse practitioner, my new primary care provider, came in and started the actual exam. She was so nice. She put me at ease as best she could. We talked about my allergy situation and brainstormed some solutions. Then she started the physical exam, including listening to my heart and lungs. I was just starting to relax when she said, "Has anyone ever told you you have a heart murmur?" Um, no? Never. Jesus. What the hell? She could see I was freaking out even more now and quickly said, "It's not bad! It's just something to know about. We could get an ultrasound of your heart and confirm that it's nothing bad." WHAAAAAT? I knew I shouldn't have come. I knew this would go badly. All I wanted was an antibiotic, a quick fix to my sinus problem. But now I was dying, I just knew my heart would fail by the time I got home, and I never should have come. I don't know if she sensed my reaction or what but she dropped the topic and returned to my sinus situation and diagnosed the infection. She also rechecked the blood pressure, which was lower now but apparently still a bit elevated. She gave me a prescription for antibiotics and had me make a follow-up appointment for a month. I was beside myself. I felt like things couldn't get worse. We were in a global pandemic, my kids' school situation was a disaster, I hated my job, I had been feeling sick for months, and now I was going to die within a week of something completely unrelated that had just been sprung on me. (Obviously it was just a cover that she scheduled my followup for a month... she knew I'd be dead by then.)

So. I picked up my prescription, went home, and immediately completely overreacted about everything. I decided never to check social media again. It was causing me too much stress. I decided to cut out almost all caffeine, which was obviously contributing to anxiety and probably high blood pressure. (This was probably a good move, actually. I had already started to sense that I was developing a sensitivity to caffeine and I was getting heart palpitations during my afternoon lattes.) I started upping my exercise to include running in addition to daily yoga, cardio walks, and frequent hikes. I told myself that if I could maintain a good cardio heart rate with a fast recovery time, I couldn't possibly have a bad heart. In short, I was desperately trying to control every little thing that I could control to make myself feel better about the things that I couldn't control.

I also started to research meditation. I had tried meditation a couple of years earlier after reading a popular book about it. I was meditating semi-regularly at that point, but it didn't quite stick. But now I was desperate. I was convinced that my brain and uncontrolled anxiety were causing my blood pressure to be dangerously high and if I didn't fix it something very, very bad would happen. So I added daily meditation to my routine. And I have to say, that's another good choice that I made! I love it. I paid for the premium subscription to Insight Timer, which includes all sorts of classes, all online. I took several meditation classes as well as a couple of anxiety-reduction classes. They have been really helpful. I felt myself start to relax a bit, little by little. I found that after a couple of weeks I was able to sleep more peacefully once again. I continued to anticipate with horror my follow-up visit, but I developed some sort of ease and acceptance. I could see that the worst thing that could come out of it simply wasn't really all that bad. Although my brain was not exactly in its right mind (so to speak) when it decided that if I was fit enough to do rigorous cardio exercise my heart couldn't be in bad shape, it was also pretty much true. I had no reason to think I had a serious problem. The nurse practitioner even said that it "wasn't bad." It was my reaction to the information that was the serious problem. So through meditation and anxiety-reduction exercises I was able to improve my state of mind quite a bit.

I was till nervous as hell going into my follow-up appointment, and of course my blood pressure read this time "slightly elevated" initially, but by the time the nurse practitioner double checked it later, it was perfectly fine. I was really, really happy by that. It's scary how much our brains control our physiology, but I was glad that I was able to relax enough to avoid the "hypertensive" label. Overall, the appointment was about as pleasant as it could be. Once again, the people were very nice and affirmed my every move and told me to keep up the good work. But I had three things to follow up on when I left. First was bloodwork, including a couple of extra tests to try to figure out why I was having heart palpitations. Second was the scary-seeming ECHO to determine the cause of the heart murmur. And the third is the one that I'm still facing: find a therapist. 

The bloodwork came back all very good except that I am slightly deficient in Vitamin D. Good to know, so I am now taking supplements. Apparently low vitamin D levels might contribute to heart palpitations and low moods/anxiety. I go back for a recheck on that level in three months. The ECHO couldn't be scheduled for a few long weeks, during which time I continued to freak out to some extent about my heart health. However, that test came back very good too and the heart murmur is not at all a problem, no followup needed. (In other words, none of my months-long freaking out about it was needed either.). The therapist is a good idea and I should do it. But I can only handle so much at a time and I took care of the physical things first. It's clear that I have an issue with anxiety and maybe some other things too. I have made some progress on my own via mindfulness. But it would be smart to have professional help. I will continue to look into it. In my defense, it's hard to find someone who is accepting new clients and who takes health insurance. There are more choices if I want to spend $200-300 per session. 

Other good things are happening too. The school year is winding down. School, especially for my high schooler, has been a source of ceaseless worry but he's making progress and is almost done. Our home renovations (kitchen and primary bath) are moving along and major decisions are done. Our dog is less of a pain now that we know (and love) her and she has matured some. Our family is getting closer to full vaccination status. The boys will be fully vaccinated on June 26, just a bit after school ends. We have been getting together with friends and family now that the adults at least are vaccinated. This has been wonderful (although tiring!). I am accepting less summer salary this year, which sounds like a bad thing, but to me it means more freedom to take time off this summer for travel and fun. A very good thing is that medical scares combined with mindfulness have left me with a profound appreciation for elements of life that I used to take for granted, or even dislike. I am working on our gardens and making our outdoor spaces as lovely and pleasant as I can. I horribly miss living in Barcelona and the ability to walk everywhere, and the availability of way too much incredible food and wine and coffee, but I am making peace with my own very different home setting. I know enough about myself to know that it's not what I would choose, but it's what I have and there are some good things about it. 

And, of course, there's still yoga. I have done yoga every day since January 1 of this year. That's a fair accomplishment! I'm not always as mindful about it as I feel that I should be, but I'm doing my best and I notice improvement. It's becoming a part of my identity, which is something I like. I can't say I feel the desire to do a class with others, but I like pushing myself on my own. And there's writing. One of the courses I took in Insight Timer was called "Facing the Blank Page." I got some good suggestions there. One thing that I already knew but that the teacher reinforced was to write regularly. Some people say to write every day, but she said what is more important is making a commitment and sticking to it. So if you know you won't write every day, don't say you will. Instead commit to writing three days a week (or whatever), but then actually do it. I admit I have not made my commitment specific or explicit. I would like to write every day but I don't think I will. Maybe I will try. Maybe this is my commitment! I will write at least a little bit every day. It won't be good and that's okay. It's important just to do it.