I sit down to write this entry and wonder how to begin. I've noticed things about myself that aren't right. When did that happen? I seem to use my mother's death as a pinpoint, but I'm not sure that it is accurate. True, her death brought on many feelings of guilt, inadequacy, anger, and even relief, but I also went into menopause. That brought about weight gain, loss of energy, and hot flashes. I also started becoming more aware of deep, dark circles under my eyes. Have those always been there?
The fact is I have no idea what is going with me. Some days I hop out of bed and take on the world. Other times I get my daughter out the door for school and crawl back into bed. I may go back to sleep or I may just tumble around in bed feeling so damn tired. Some days I have things to do. Some days I don't do anything. I don't feel downhearted. I don't feel depressed. Most of the time I feel just fine, a tad guilty when things don't get done, but hey, there is always tomorrow. For awhile I was so tired that I was taking a nap almost every other day or sometimes every day. Not catnaps of twenty minutes, but naps of one to two hours. Did I have that before her death or after? I really don't know anymore.
I cry more. I quit reading the paper. It made me too sad. I hear a song and cry. I've started listening only to my own playlists. I have issues with several of my friends whose lives are unraveling. I'm not the only one going through things. Did our parents go through these things at this age?
The holidays were great fun. We had so much going on, people around, my children home from school that I didn't notice much. Football was back in my life. The weather was cooler and my hot flashes not so often. January came, and I hated the weight that I had put on. When did I get this heavy? Now I had extra chins to go with the dark circles. At least I could cover the gray in my hair. I started waking up in the morning and immediately my brain would start talking.
Brain: "Why didn't I go to bed earlier? Why didn't I get a better night's sleep. Ugh. I hate mornings. What should I pack Darcy for lunch? What is on my schedule for today? God, what would I do if I had a real job and had to get ready for work? I need to have a job so that I can contribute more to the household accounts. I have to stop drinking coffee. It's all the creamer I put in it that is causing this weight gain. Why did I let myself get like this? I should go to the gym. I should walk the dog. The dog won't go. I can always go back to bed and sleep some more."
On and on my brain would go while I washed my face and brushed my teeth, and then I noticed my heart rate. It was racing. Not every day, but more than it should have been. I remember the first time I noted my heart beating quickly was as a child. I was very frightened. Was I dying? I finally worked up the nerve to ask my mother, and discovered that a beating heart was actually a good thing. She, of course, wanted to know how come I didn't know this. Ah, see, leading back to my mother.
There were a few days that my heart raced. It isn't a new thing for me. My heart raced way before now, back when my children were younger and I was working as a substitute teacher. But I haven't had it happen as often as it is now. Having the Apple Watch, made me more aware because I could monitor my pulse. I noticed that I felt relief when it was below 70. I did a lot of Googling heart rates. Anxiety and stressed popped up as factors. What did I have to feel anxious about? I didn't feel stressed. I just felt...okay.
Finally, at some point in all of this a memory kicked in. Those memories of the last time all of this happened? I was diagnosed with high blood pressure. My heart raced back then. I took it as a sign. I began a daily monitoring of my bp. Two days of frequent monitoring my blood pressure was anywhere between 117/79 to 167/94. I went back to Google, and finally decided I needed to see someone. What is it about calling our doctor that we hate? But call I did. My doctor wasn't in that day, but apparently the phone lady felt I needed to be seen because she fit me in to see the main doctor, a woman I had originally tried to have as my primary care, but she hadn't been taking new patients back then. She did have another doctor joining her practice, and that's how I ended up with my current doctor. Now suddenly I was anxious about seeing this other doctor who didn't know me from Adam. Yep, I was surely going to be hospitalized since my pressure was skyrocketing.
Inside the office, the nurse informed me my pressure was 150/80. I was thrilled that it was high because I wanted to know that I wasn't crazy. I was surprised that the bottom number was perfect. It had been higher in the last eight months. The nurse sort of shrugged at this reading as if it were no big deal. I told her I had been having more headaches than normal. The doctor came in. I liked her immediately. She was older than me, I think, or my age. Either way she wasn't in her 30's like my current one. She sat down and we talked. Apparently, 150/80 is no big deal in the world, just in mine. She suggested a slight change in one of the medications I take. She told me menopause causes a lot of shit. She wants me to do blood work, have my thyroid checked. I'm to come back in two months. I wonder aloud, during our chat, when I first was diagnosed. I told her at least ten years, after I turned 40.
Me: "It all went down after I turned 40. I had cataracts, high blood pressure. It sucked."
She never examined me. I just realized that while typing this entry. I'll have to take off points for that. She should at least have listened to my heart. She told me an obscure side effect from the medication is a cough.
Her: "Only 7% of the population get that so I'm not worried."
Me: "Hello, didn't I just tell you it all went downhill for me after 40?"
I've been on the medication for almost two weeks. My blood pressure is significantly lower, the last reading 107/74. The heart still races at times, and that's a huge concern for me. I worry that I should have just increased my beta blocker to help with the increased beats. But since it isn't over 100 other than exercising, I'm trying to breathe more, to not let it cause more anxiety which just makes my heart beat faster.
Blogging is harder than it use to be. I don't feel I have things to say anymore. When I started writing this entry to share my increase in blood pressure, I looked back to see when I first was diagnosed. I couldn't find it on this blog, and had to go back to my very first blog hidden in old files on my old computer backup. I remember writing about it, or at least I thought I did, but my mind is slowly disappearing. I did find it, the blog entry, not my mind. I wasn't 42. I was 39. Now I am depressed.
I've tried to change my habits. I've started exercising more. I've tried to eat healthier, incorporating more fruits and vegetables in my diet. I'm taking my fish oil pills and choking down the red yeast rice pills to lower my cholesterol. I'm trying to get more sleep. That's been harder than the other additions, well, maybe not the exercising, but tying to get in seven hours of sleep when I'm a night person and I have to get up at 6:00 a.m. is hard.
I posted something on Instagram recently regarding my feelings. People reached out to me, and that was nice. I have good people in my life; family and friends. I'm blessed. I'll make it through this little blip, this new chapter in life, and I'll forge on. Fingers crossed.
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