Looking back, I knew something was wrong. I knew instinctively "it" wasn't menopause. I was always aware from a very young age that I was not blessed with a body that ever did anything I ever wanted it to. But this was different. Looking back, I can recall that I was having some symptoms as early as 2005. I had the same wonderful, caring, attentive and interested Dr. ever, for over 20 years. The kind that fixed the problem without strapping you to a lengthy symptom fix. Dr S. didn't believe in keeping you coming in if you had no real reason to. I admired his ethic.
I had lost him as my Dr. in 2005 when he decided to move up in his management of a well known care clinic. I drove all the way to Tukwila to keep seeing him for the longest time. At that time, it was only my "slightly" elevated blood pressure needing monitoring. I had no other symptoms. It became clear with his limited schedule and taking on of less patients, I would have to look for another MD. Enter Dr. Oblivious!
I wish I could say it started out well. It did not. As I said, I found him to be cold, uninterested and hurried. He lacked the "bedside manner" of my last Dr. I always felt as though I was taking up his time, he made it that way. As a matter of fact, Dr. Oblivious was the kind of MD I had come to dislike in an immense way during all the years of exposure to more of them than I could ever count. The kind I would not only NOT recommend but discourage anyone from seeing. A lesson to all who really do not care for your MD..go get another one until you find one that "listens" without regard to time! There is nothing to be gained by the telling of your story to someone unwilling to hear it. All of the symptoms, in some form and duration began to show themselves. But, came and went. I would be fine one day, feeling like I had been rode hard and put away wet the next. Overly tired, extremely anxious, and a nervous bundle of madness seemed to have checked in for the duration. All missed clues. They only worsened over time.
In fairness, I had a lot going on in my life then. For the first time in 17 yrs I decided to date, yes date. I had not been out with a man for all of those years. I spent that time building my career, buying and fixing up a home, assisting my brother and sister with the raising of their children. I loved that time, I was healthy then. I literally worked all the time.
When I met Mr. B...something about him begged me to let him into my space. He was funny, fun to be around, helpful, respectful. At the very least, I thought it would be fun. Turns out...was anything but 6 months into it, though I would not know what was wrong for another 3 months. I had chosen to care about ...wait for it...a heroin addict. I considered myself a great judge of character. I thought I could genuinely identify a liar. Heroin addicts are a different breed of human and I found they are all alike....exactly alike! They seek out people like me. Kind, caring, compassionate. I could not for the longest time cast him out. I felt sorry for him. I knew he was sick, not a bad person...just so very sick. I had an overwhelming need to nurture him, make him better, get him well. He had an overwhelming need to use. One thing I new for sure, what ever his problem was..the answer was not going to come thru that needle. I tell you this because at this time it was an all consuming negative in my life. I remember I used to tell him, HE was making me sick from all of the stress. There was some truth to that.
While on all of the steroids for the constant asthma attacks and neck injury, even I had noticed that increased stress would cause me to spin out of control in my symptoms. I passed out one night on my way to the bathroom. When I came to, I had no idea how long I had actually been there on the floor. I had been having occasional chest pains, disregarded it when it would just go away. I could never find a common thread for any of this stuff except to recognize that it was becoming a regular thing.
It was during the summer of 2006 that it became painfully clear, as a matter of survival it was gonna be me or Mr B. to the grave first. Mr. B. was then forced out. I was under constant attack but could not identify my real enemy. I was becoming miserably anxious. I could not calm my insides down. Everything felt like I was running a marathon all the time. I had taken on the added stress of once more trying to help my sister get her life together. I was becoming restless in a position in a unit that I loved, working with the best team of people I had ever had the pleasure to work with in my whole life! You know, much like those Cheers, Friends and Desperate Housewives cast-mates that come together once in a lifetime? That blend and mesh so well they sustain each other for many years? Like that! And yet I now longed to be anywhere else. I was losing my mind too. Then I chose ER. Correction: had lost my mind! My thinking was...the challenge would be good for me, I would return to school. The reality, the stress level tripled and I continued to literally come undone.
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