Worried and Anxious and Scared, Oh My!

A while back, I did a blog post about how, because I've been through so much in the past couple of decades, very little really scares me anymore. And a little while after that, I did one specifically about how the thought of death doesn't really frighten me.

Yeah. 

I lied.  

Now, I didn't lie intentionally, mind you. I still believe there is little I'm truly afraid of. And, in general, the thought of dying doesn't worry me so much... but I have found out that the idea of dying right now? Scares the bejeebies out of me, people.

I spent Wednesday afternoon and evening in the emergency room. I was sent there by my doctor's office because my blood pressure had been ranging between 178/98 and 210/110. For those of you not in the know, those are not good numbers. The nurse at my doctor's office used the words, "stroke range" and asked if I wanted them to call the rescue squad to come get me. 

Gulp.

Now, I've never had high blood pressure before. And last year, I had every heart test known to man (only to find out my suspected heart attack was a combination of reflux and anxiety. I was a little red-faced but also very, very relieved). I was given a clean bill of heart-health. But over the past few weeks, I felt strongly that something was up... but I didn't dream just how far up that something was. 

At the ER, I had a bunch of tests done and my BP was taken every 20 minutes or so. It didn't come down much. Still, even without an explanation for the significant rise in pressure, the ER doctor felt I wasn't in imminent danger of a stroke or heart attack, so he sent me home with a prescription for a BP medication. Needless to say, I filled it at the hospital before I left that night. While I wanted desperately to trust the doctor and his words/instinct/feelings/tests, I didn't.

I still don't. 

I've been taking my BP 2-3 times a day for the past four days. It's still way up there. It comes down a bit when I take the medication, but then it goes right back up. Determined to help the medication along, I went shopping for healthy foods (many of which I found out don't mesh with this particular pill. Damn it) and I spent Thursday evening making soup and chicken and fish and prepping for 'green' breakfast smoothies. 

I'm not playing around, y'all. 

I'm scared.

This is a sort of fear I've never felt before. I'm actually afraid to go to sleep, in case I don't wake up. Can I tell you? That's a pretty horrible feeling.

When I was diagnosed with cancer, I knew there was a possibility it would kill me. But I also knew that if that happened, it wouldn't be immediate. It would happen after a fight and I'd have time to prepare. But this? This could just happen. Anytime. Anywhere. And while that's always been the case, really (hello, getting hit by a bus), to actually hear, in your very own doctor's office, that it's a decent possibility, like, now? 

That's scary, y'all. 

I'm scared.

Several weeks ago, one of my dearest friends lost her dad. It was unexpected; incredibly sudden. They were blindsided. They didn't get to say good-bye. I've lost both my parents but both died after long illnesses. Their deaths were expected... still difficult, but not blindsiding. 

I don't want to blindside anyone. 

My fear is that I could die in my sleep. That I could be at home, alone, and no one would know for a day or two. Or more. I joked the other day that my cat kept watch all night, but I wondered if he was just waiting to eat me after I died in my sleep. I meant it to be funny... but the joke definitely had a ring of truth to it. I worry that my pets will be with me when it happens, confused and scared because The Mama won't wake up. I worry that someone will have to drive over the mountain and tell my daughter I'm gone. 

I know lots of people have high blood pressure (according to the American Heart Association, given the new classifications, nearly HALF of all Americans do!). But I've never had it. And I know this might sound melodramatic or irrational to many people, and I know I'm prone to hyperbole, but I assure you, this worry, anxiety, and fear (oh my) is real. It's very real. 

I'm hoping that after I meet with my doctor this week, the anxiety will subside (even if it takes medication to do it; and if you know me at all, you know the fact that I'd even consider that means this is big for me). I'm hoping the fear can be relegated to a little corner of my head, instead of consuming my entire brain. I'm hoping the worry will be replaced with a plan. I'm hoping to be able to function, to sleep, to think, without this all-consuming threat looming over me.

Fingers are crossed. 

Take care of you, peeps. Please. I had symptoms (dizziness, pressure in my neck, and alternating "rushing" and pounding in my ears) but I'm told that most people don't. If you haven't been to the doctor in a while, think about going, especially if you're living with any sort of stress (who isn't?), or depression and anxiety. Just see. Here's a chart of the new ranges, as identified by the American Heart Association, for your reference. Be well. You all matter to me. 

XO,