Wednesday, November 17, 2010

they met

Called in sick today - had to get some sleep today since I did not sleep at all last night because I ended up in the ER - encore. This is part of my norm, nothing to get all twisted in knots about...fear sent me there. Every time a different kind (than past) of chest pain emerges I get scared. The same old same old chest pains don't warrant a visit to the ER, only new ones I've never had before cause concern in me these days.

Perhaps stress is coming out sideways in my life lately. I met with a mediator and my ex last night. Then we went for coffee which in the end turned out good, and that's when the pain struck. Perhaps I got up too fast I don't know but it started shooting out my chest, down my right arm. And the nausea came. I couldn't drive so my Ex took me to the ER, calling la femme francaise in the between times. What a way to meet each other, but in a sense, how appropriate. I'm sure it was civil, I was minding my pain, trying to keep consciousness, and not throwing up. Once the dr. finally came for a visit he asked who the women were and I couldn't help but feel a little funny "this is my soon-to-be Exwife and this is my girlfriend". It's so not like it seems. Then again, I'm getting too tired to care what people think.


Once they said tests would take until at least 4am the Ex handed me off to la femme. At first I did not want la femme there, afraid of the 'drama' that I'm bringing to her very calm, drama-free life. But this is my life, and the ER is part of it, every so often (although I really do have to stay away). According to my Ex, my last night's ECG was much better than when I was in in July for the possibly mini-stroke but not quite a TIA. July's was pretty ugly. That sounded pleasing to all the work I'm trying to do to keep myself relatively healthy all things considered.


I recalled the ECG tech from when I was there almost 2 years ago in January (when I first started writing). I remembered her because of her accent, because she knew what I had. I recalled that in her home country she dealt with Truncus babies when she was (is) a peds cardiac doctor. This is precisely why I don't like the immigration laws: here is this dr. now ecg tech who knows what I have and has dealt with it yet some of the (newer, younger) cardiac nurses do not: what a waste or knowledge! I told her I remembered her and why. She was very nice and gave us a copy for my records (how do you think I keep track of everything!). I hope it made her night that she was remembered. It made my night that I had her again (under the circumstances).


Anyway, once the Ex left my symptoms got worse, I ended up fainting in la femme's arms, and soon after I came to, I ended up barfing where-in she decided to clean it up. There was only one nurse on in that dept. (for 20 patients) and la femme decided to be helpful. That's when I broke down, feeling the epitome of humiliation and vulnerability knowing that the romance was gone: cleaning up some-one's barf is over the top for me. As tears rolled down my face, buried in the bed still burning up and fighting consciousness I asked her to leave. Ya, stubborn Ox I am. It's one thing to write about vulnerability, it's another to witness it. And of course, she did not leave.

She continued to stay by my side until I was discharged, bringing me home, and getting some shut-eye this morning.


The result is that I did not have a heart attack, my enzymes are fine, and stress really does impact the cardiac system. If I want to keep working full-time, my life has to get simpler. And that means cutting the bull, the negative, the toxic. I still love the person my Ex is. One doesn't have someone in one's life for that long (11 years next week) and not care, but I'm getting awfully tired of being the bad gal. It took two to break us, and for (her camp) to see my health as another tool of manipulation is pushing me over the top.... I'm done with other peoples' drama/accusations/judgements. I'm done with those who don't understand what I have and could possibly think I manipulate people with my health. Only those who could even think it are themselves capable of doing such thing. My mind and conscience are clear, my focus is my health and my life, and no longer shall other peoples' baggage or tainted opinion of me matter. It saddens me because it means that she goes too. I am grateful that she brought me. I know there's still love there, but right now I don't need their drama or judgement. We both did and said hurtful things and I will not allow (them) to punish me any longer even if that means cutting her out of my life. The complication just isn't worth my health anymore. Besides, if I was out for coffee with any one else, they would not have wanted me to drive either and bring me to the ER.


Love should not be measured by what a person says, but by what a person does.