Last week I had a health scare. For the 2nd time in two years, I was afraid I was having a heart attack. I'm 36. 36 year old people should not be concerned about having heart attacks. I'm a 36 year old single mother of 2 young girls. I can't have a heart attack. I know I medically can, but I CAN'T. It started on Monday with a sore/achy left shoulder. I ignored it until Tuesday morning when I woke up and felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest. My heart wasn't beating funny, so I thought it was my lungs. One asthma treatment later, and nothing had improved, so I tried to ignore it and I went to work. At 5pm I took my kids to their dad's house so I could go to the doctor since nothing was getting any better.
1st ER - I was hooked up to the heart monitor and EKG pretty quickly while blood was drawn to look for "indicators". After a couple hours, it was determined that all of my cardiac functioning was fine and it definitely wasn't my heart. The next thing the doctor's talked about was a possible blood clot in my lungs. Normally a CT Scan would provide answers fairly quickly. Unfortunately for me, the CT scanner at this facility was a "standard size" machine and I would not fit in it. Enter shame and embarrassment. After giving me Valium for the panic attack and Morphine for the pain, a few hours later they decided they would transport me to their sister facility in the closest major city because they were better equipped to deal with me.
2nd ER - Again with the heart monitors and EKG and discussion of a CT Scan. After an hour or so of monitoring, the doctor came in and said a CT scan wasn't going to be an option after all and they were going to do a V/Q scan (involved radioactive air & dye & multiple x-rays). This test is a lot less accurate, but it's all they could do. As it turns out, I am ok. We think. We can't be definitive because I am TOO FAT FOR LIFESAVING MEDICAL TESTS. WTF? Who let's themselves get to that point? WHY? HOW? I find I want to go into a multi-paragraph, self bashing rant, but I can't say anything worse that I haven't already said and it doesn't help anyway.
At my brother's insistence, I have an appointment later this week at a nutritional/weightloss center. I hate it and I'm scared and I want to throw up just thinking about it, but I'm out of options. I've always been self-destructive. Booze, drugs, cigarettes, sex, food...you name it, I've abused it. I no longer drink, use, smoke (except the occasional few puffs), or sleep around. Food is the one thing that's still got me by the neck.
So now I take this huge leap forward and hope like hell something works.