This is the (true) story of a girl (this girl) who had herself a complete meltdown today.
We need to go back a week, to see the origins of this mess. I was PMS'ing (which I do for a full week, thank you peri-menopause) until Wednesday the 21st. Then I was full-on M'ing for the next five days, until today, Tuesday the 27th. The result of this is lowered iron (I'm anemic anyway--yay for bleeding!). Lower iron means less sleeping (I'm already an insomniac--this just makes the sleeping pills less effective). I had a fairly normal weekend (normal in the broader sense of the term). Saturday night I hung out at a friend's house, Sunday I cleaned and shopped like a maniac for the surprise birthday get-together I put together for my mom on Monday. After a full and busy, productive Memorial Day (yesterday), today should have been a Do Absolutely Nothing So You Can Recover Day, because I did way more over the weekend than usual.
However... I had a scheduled ultrasound for 1:30 this afternoon. This ultrasound was to see how my blood is flowing, because I've been getting extra cramps in my legs lately and my doctor wanted to make sure I don't have a blood clot. Having never had one of these done before, I thought it would be like an X-ray. Walk in, get some pictures of my insides taken, and walk out. Easy-peasy, right? No-o-o-o-o.
Rushing makes me anxious. I like to be EARLY for appointments, not on time--on time = late. But we got there right at 1:30. I realized on the way into the clinic that I'd forgotten to put my wallet back in my purse, so I didn't have my insurance card or ID on me. Instant mini-panic, because they always ask. Somehow managed to avert that, since I was already in the system. Got called back. Went into this room with a treadmill, a cot, and a lot of equipment. The ultrasound tech started explaining that I'd have to change into the gown and then relax for 10 minutes because even walking back to the exam room raises the blood pressure and they wanted me to "come down" to normal. She didn't know this, but I hadn't been "down to normal" since I woke up.
Then she started telling me how they'd be hooking my entire body--arms, legs, ankles, etc--up to blood pressure cuffs, checking each one for blood flow. And then she said I should prepare to be lying on the cot for about an hour. I can't lie on a cot for an hour. I can't even lie on my bed for an hour without hurting. And after all the blood pressure cuff stuff was done, I'd be walking on the treadmill for 10 minutes. Hi. I'm the girl with broken feet. I didn't wear my special broken foot shoes today, because I knew I'd have to take my shoes off for what I thought was a simple X-ray. Walking on a treadmill for 10 minutes in my non-special broken feet shoes would be like taking a hammer to the bottom of my feet.
The whole time she's explaining these things, I can feel the vein in my forehead pulsing. My ears started ringing. I couldn't breathe. And then, just like that, I burst into tears. She stopped mid-sentence and said, "Oh, honey, are you okay? What's wrong?" At which point I told her, "I'm freaking out. I thought I was just getting an X-ray." I babbled on about my blood sugar being low and I didn't know I'd have to wear a hospital gown and I can't walk barefoot for 10 minutes or lie on my back for an hour on a cot, and... and... and... AUUUUUGGGGHHHHHH!
She was so cool. So calm. So understanding. She said, "Would you like to reschedule? Now that you know what to expect, next time won't be so bad, right?" And I heartily agreed that rescheduling would be best. I kept crying, because at that point, I couldn't stop. I almost hyper-ventilated. I sobbed. My heart was racing. I'm sure if they'd taken my blood pressure reading right then, they would've admitted me to the hospital. I must have truly been a mess, because when she walked me back out to the waiting room, she hugged me. LOL
As soon as we were back to the car, I took a Xanax for the anxiety and chain-smoked for the next half-hour. I'm now in the down-stage of the panic attack, which is like the after-effects of an adrenaline rush. I'm pukey and exhausted and still a bit on the weepy side.
So there you have it. Exciting, no?
I know it's not exciting. And if you've ever had a panic attack, YOU know it's not exciting, too.
I live with these things. Somehow, I live. With these.
If anyone you know suffers from panic attacks, remember that the feelings they experience are not just "a bit nervous." They include terror, helplessness, hopelessness, and sorrow--followed by extreme humiliation and guilt for putting others through it. Be kind. And forgive them if they lash out. That adrenaline rush-feeling they get when in panic mode is the same as the "fight or flight" instinct, and they may feel no other recourse than to lash out at whomever is nearby.
Time to take a nap for this girl.