i’m (not) okay

Nothing takes the wind out of my sails like receiving a letter stating that I’ve been officially declared as clinically extremely vulnerable and as a result I’m eligible to receive my vaccination sooner than my allotted age group.

On one hand, cool! Vaccines for me!

On the other hand, I feel like I’m about to keel over and die any second and the only person unaware of my impending implosion is me.

I have a relatively small list of fears: tarantulas, children, children tarantulas, and my own mortality. I am paralyzed with fear when I think that I could die any second. There’s so much I would miss out on – I don’t know what any of it is, but I guarantee that I’d rather be alive for it than otherwise. The thought of either Ed or myself shuffling off this mortal coil absolutely scares the fuck out of me, and every time my doctor calls me to send me off for more mysterious testing, I completely shut down and just can’t function. And then, true to my nature, I start worrying about all of my stuff that someone’s going to have to deal with. And all my passwords. Who will manage my passwords?!

They did a full blood panel on me several weeks ago, the results of which were apparently so alarming that every specialist in the city has been alerted to the walking medical conundrum that I represent. I had to do an exercise test that I spent most of a week scared shitless about (mostly thanks to Ed confusing “exercise test” with “athletic endurance test”), complete with having to wear a heart monitor overnight because I have such a lack of natural rhythm that even my heart can’t keep a beat. I haven’t heard anything about the results. They’re sending me to be blinded by science on Monday with an ophthalmologist, and I’m supposed to get a call from a hemogoblinologist soon so they can look at my blood with lasers. I don’t know if this is all just routine testing – my doctor literally phoned in the appointment – but every new test they send me on throws me into a spiral of fear.

I want to see this new status as a good thing because I’ll be protected from the ‘vid that much sooner, but I can’t see it as anything other than forewarning that my fast lane lifestyle and the hard partying I haven’t yet gotten around to is finally catching up with me, and I’m falling apart in fast motion.

Literally the only thing I have to do in this world is keep myself alive, and I’m failing miserably at it.

There isn’t enough pot in the world to help me deal with this. I’m fucking terrified.

at least this made me laugh

sdk (super duper kimli) update

Sorry about the pun – I’ve been elbow-deep in SDK documentation for weeks, and it’s starting to infiltrate my subconscious. Also, I am pretty super duper. You know, in case you missed that part.

.. actually, I’m not super at all. My health is probably the worst it’s ever been, and I can’t get help. I’ve been to walk-in clinics, used Medeo multiple times, called 811 to talk to a nurse, tried to get sleep tests done .. and it’s all failed. I’m no closer to finding out what’s wrong with me than I was two months ago, and in the meantime, things have gotten so much worse. If I stop to think about my symptoms, I legit start to cry because I’m so fucking scared and feeling helpless and like I’m going to keel over and die any minute, and I can’t get any fucking help.

I still can’t catch a full breath, and the fatigue is worse than ever. I’ve basically given up on leaving the house: I work from home 3-4 days a week because I just don’t have the energy necessary to get to the office. Every fucking thing I do winds me like I ran three miles – I can’t even get dressed without having to stop to catch my fucking breath. It’s scary and humiliating and I don’t know what to do.

My lungs rattle at night, making me cough, which makes me throw up. Rinse and repeat, every night. I’m lucky if I get 3-5 hours of fitful, rattly sleep. Every doctor I manage to see listens to my lungs, and doesn’t hear a thing – because the rattling only happens after midnight. I’ve recorded it, I’ve sent it to doctors, I’ve played it in people’s faces, and they ignore it. Want to hear? Click away. It’s awesome. That’s what I sound like every night after midnight, but no one will help me because it doesn’t happen in front of their eyes.

I look and feel like utter shit. I’m pale and blotchy and there are bags under my eyes big enough to smuggle dogs in. I feel fragile and broken and I don’t know how to fix it. I’ve been trying, with no luck – each doctor I talk to tells me to talk to someone else. Online they tell me to see a live doctor. Live doctors refer me to hospitals, but the referrals don’t come through. The sleep test equipment I got was broken, and it took another 4 weeks to get another loaner appointment. Assuming that equipment works, it’ll be 2-4 weeks before they can analyze the results. I don’t think I can do this for another 6 weeks.

Ed tries to anticipate what the doctors will tell me – that it’s my diet causing all this. That doesn’t help. I can’t eat because I’m so tired, and when I do, I struggle to keep food down. Also, most of the reason I’m afraid to see a live doctor is because I’m convinced they’re going to dismiss every symptom I have, because I’m fat. You can’t breathe? You’re fat. You can’t sleep? Fat. Tired all the time, throwing up every night, pink jellyfish in your lungs? So fat. I’m desperate to have some kind of medical professional take me seriously and look for symptoms beyond my size, but I’m terrified of being ignored – and Ed’s comments aren’t helping. He means well, but .. no. Stop. Please.

If this keeps up, I’m going to have to take some medical leave from work. I can’t cope anymore, I don’t have a family doctor I can see, and everything left of me is in the hands of people who have a website proudly stating:

The Clinic takes walk-in patients from 8am-9pm Monday- Friday and from 9am-9pm Saturday’s and Sunday’s.

I’m as good as dead. Who wants my stuff?

using my words

At this particular moment in time, I’m more scared than I can ever remember being.

Ed is sick. He’s been sick for a while now. What started out as a cold lingered, turned into bronchitis, then the flu. He’s had a rattle in his chest for months, and extremely painful lymph nodes. He’s pretty much in discomfort 24/7, and there isn’t a hell of a lot he can do about it.

It could be anything. He might have an infection, or a nasty case of strep throat, or even tonsillitis. Maybe he really did swallow some golf balls, and forgot about it. Maybe our imaginations are running away with each other, and it’s a silly minor thing that’ll be cleared up quickly.

But maybe it’s not.

That last maybe is unbearable. I’ve been tense with worry for weeks, and today it all came to a head – I am freaking out, and I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to show how scared and worried I am, because Ed needs me to be calm so HE doesn’t freak out. I had a good handle on it – sure I can’t sleep or keep food down, but I kept things light hearted and superficial. Today, though. Can’t get through today. I want to scream and yell and cry and swear and throw things and make an awful racket to drown out the things in my head .. but I can’t. Have to stay calm. I want to be comforting and soothing, but I don’t know how – I feel brittle and sharp, like I’d shred your flesh if I got too close. There’s a giant wall of fear and worry and I can’t see through it to be what he needs, and knowing that is making it worse – I can never be what he needs. I am bad at everything.

He has an appointment tomorrow morning to discuss test results. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s something, but minor and easily fixable. Maybe by the weekend he’ll be feeling better and we can look back on this terror and laugh. Maybe I’ll figure out how to set aside a lifetime of living inside my own head and learn how to say the right thing; perfect words that’ll make him better. Maybe there’s something on the internet that’ll teach me how to be a better wife.

It better not be on YouTube, though.

How do you deal with crushing fear? I’m fairly certain the answer is “do the opposite of what you’re doing”, but I can’t shake it. I held it together for so long, but tonight I’ve lost it and I feel like the worst person ever and I can’t get past my own freaking out to be what he needs and that fucking sucks so hard.