…and other stuff… (sorry, long post)
Photo by Taylor Foss on Unsplash
So earlier this week, Monday the 29th to be exact, the question in WBEZ’s The Rundown asked “What is your favorite Halloween memory?” I sent in my answer and received a 4-word response on the 30th “Thanks for sharing, Deborah!” Later that day, I’m skimming the afternoon edition of the newsletter and guess what’s posted…my Halloween memory! It’s way at the bottom… the last thing on the page, actually; and there’s no byline, just my first name; but yeah… it’s my story!
My favorite Halloween memory is also my worst Halloween memory and I didn’t shake it until I was in my 40s. In 1972 (or sometime there abouts) Mommi took my brother and me trick-or-treating. At the first house, we were told that all the candy had been given away the day before. So we walked down a ways to another house, and again, we were too late… their candy had been gobbled up the day before too. We moved over a block, again, no candy. A few more houses…still no candy. Mommi finally took us for ice cream and I spent the rest of my childhood worried every year that people would go trick-or-treating a day early and all the candy would be gone. Fast forward, I’m in my 40s with 2 small children on Halloween getting on my last nerve. I seriously consider tossing all the candy, turning off the porch light, and telling them we missed Halloween. I had a flash of memory back to my saddest Halloween and then it suddenly clicked. Mommi took us trick-or-treating THE DAY AFTER HALLOWEEN! She had likely been out to boogie on Oct. 31st, but something (or most likely somebody… probably Grandpa) insisted that she take us anyway, even the next day. I just laughed and laughed… and then took my kids trick-or-treating on October 31st.
Sigh… Another Health Update…
Also on the 29th, in the afternoon (four hours after taking my morning meds), I was feeling light-headed and the floor felt all floaty whenever I stood up. I checked my blood pressure at noon and it was 103/69 which is extremely low for me. An hour later my symptoms were worse, including blurred vision and pressure in my chest, and my bp was 90/59, and my oxygen was 88. I placed a call to my cardiologist and waited on hold (as opposed to leaving a message) for 15 minutes. I spoke to the receptionist and was put on hold for another 10 minutes while she went to find a nurse. She couldn’t find one available to take my call, but promised a call-back from the first available. While waiting for the call-back, I checked my bp 5 more times and watched it rise and fall by a few points… up and down… up and down. After an hour, I called again and while I was on hold, they called me.
My cardio office can see the troubling numbers from my bp machine. When I described my other symptoms, the nurse told me to go to the ER. Since the world was all topsy-turvy, I hitched a ride. At the hospital, I was immediately taken back for an EKG. When that came back clear, I sat in the waiting room for about an hour (déjà vu all over again), then went back to a room. I explained my symptoms again… again… and the kind nurse tried twice to place an IV and draw blood. The hospital rule is to call for help after 2 unsuccessful tries, so a second nurse came in and did it in one shot. Blood-work came back clear of heart attack markers, and all other levels were within normal ranges, and my bp and oxygen were slowly climbing. The room was cold and I was ready to go home since whatever the crisis was seemed to have abated. I was just waiting for the ER doc to get clearance from my cardiologist.
So yeah… no clearance… they kept me.
…But Wait… There’s More!…
So I spend the 29th in the hospital and now my anxiety is up and my bp is steadily rising to its normally astronomical level and the world is still kinda loopy. I’m anxious cuz I hafta get out of there. I have an important procedure/test scheduled for the 31st at the same hospital… but I hafta be discharged before I can check in for the procedure. On the 30th, I take a stress test. Hell yeah, I’m stressed! During the test, I’m woozy and there’s chest pressure, but the test is ok and they let me go home.
On the 31st, I check in for my test and meet the doctor… and older guy with impressive full-sleeve tattoos which surprise me cuz I’ve never seen a fully tattooed doctor before, especially one his age. He must’ve gotten them in the service. When I compliment them, he rolls down the fake sleeves(!) and says “Happy Halloween!”
I have an adrenal vein sampling, where they draw blood from my adrenal veins and test for over-production of aldosterone which causes high bp. I was mostly awake for the procedure. The results will take about a week.
Photo by jesse orrico on Unsplash
…What the Actual Fuck?…
The next day (today) I get a call from the cardiologists office to plan and discuss my upcoming heart catheterization procedure. WTF? Nobody mentioned any heart-cath procedures! Oops! The nurse thought somebody had told me that the cardiologist wants to check for any blockages or stiffening that might be causing issues when my bp drops. She’ll have the doctor or NP call me right back.
When I talk to the NP, she explains that the doctor ordered the procedure ASAP so we schedule it for this coming Friday (Nov. 8th). It’s a minimally invasive heart procedure that’s not open-heart surgery. They’ll go through an artery in my groin or wrist, check out the lay of the land, and maybe place a stent if there’s any significant blockage. I may be in the hospital overnight… again.
So now…
…my most fervent hope is that the AVS test shows primary aldosteronism which is treatable and could explain all of my bp/heart issues.
Have I mentioned how sick I am of this shit?