I had to wait to post this until I was able to remove myself from the emotions. What a rough few days. I've shed a lot of tears over this. Unfortunately, it's not the first time nor do I think it will be my last.
The past several days have been a struggle for me physically. There's some changes going on with my family that required the moving of items out of a room and to a different space. Before all this heart crap, I was able to do all that by myself. I mean, mostly, unless the furniture was too large. Now, breaks are required and help is needed. I tried to do everything myself and that was an immediate no from my body.
Trust me, I used to move my furniture often. Those that know me are probably nodding in agreement because sometimes it was moved weekly I swear! I've gotten a lot better about that at this point in my life but trust me, I still move things. Items have to match my energy I guess. When they don't, they must be moved but I digress.
Ok, so I started moving things. When I say things, it was an entire office space with a corner desk, a file cabinet, a table that holds two printers, and a cabinet with doors. Mind you, all of these things are full of or have items on top of, or both. Those things inside of and on top of needed to be moved as well.
I was careful to breathe because when I don't (when you hold your breath while lifting and things) I get light headed. Did I tell you guys I'm in the lucky 15% of people that get light headed to the point of thinking I could pass out from laughing? Yeah, that's me. So you can see how moving things is a damn struggle then.
I took several trips back and forth from one area of the basement to another and was literally spent. Like my body had nothing more to give. It brought me right back to that hike in the woods where I didn't know that I would be able to get out. It's like my gas had run out and I'm suddenly functioning on fumes. There's no other option but to rest. I was fueled only by my anger at my limitations at points I kid you not.
My youngest son helped me with furniture. As soon as we got the desk apart and moved a piece, I had to sit down. My worry is how fast my pulse is knowing that's tied to my blood pressure. Guess what else is tied to my blood pressure? My ICD (defibrillator/pacemaker) that monitors EVERYTHING my heart does. There were 11 seconds of extremely high pressures in the past 2 months, within 10 beats of my unit being activated. While it's not long in the grand scheme of things, I don't even remember doing anything physical at the time (my machine logs the day and exact time it occurs). Needless to say, sitting down was ok until I could get my pulse back down and move the next piece and so on.
That night, I was falling asleep by 7:30 in the chair. This was even more proof that my body was pushed to its limit. I generally have trouble falling asleep. I've had trouble with this and staying asleep for as long as I can remember. When I got my CPAP machine, that all changed. Now that I've had it for awhile, I'm back on my struggle to fall asleep again. It's a cycle that I'm trying to break. - So I went to bed and slept for 10 hours!
I cried to my husband that following night being so upset about what has happened to me as I had to move more things that day since none of this was accomplished in a single day. I was so upset at how weak my body is and that I am unable to do the things I used to do. I end up out of breath quickly. Old me would have totally had everything moved in a day and probably put away where I wanted it. It has been a week and I still don't have everything in a proper place yet.
I have had a meltdown twice since then. I guess my conscious mind was unaware of just how much those limitations bother me. I couldn't talk about it without crying and still find myself upset. I talked to two other family members about it and was told that I shouldn't carry all of that myself. People ask my all the time now how I am feeling. Mostly, I feel fine and that is my general response. When I don't feel fine though, I rarely say that. It's easier to just lie. I don't want anyone to worry because I worry enough as it is. I feel like I'm faced with my own mortality all too often and that's a lot to process.
I realize that people hate being lied to, myself included, but I have mostly lacked a strong support system most of my life. A lot of that may be my own doing as much like now, I don't let people in. You could say I have trust issues. I know I do. Too many times the ones that should have never let me down did, from little girl on. Those are emotions I have to deal with and at 48 it's looking like that may never completely go away. Knowing that, I share my life and my story.
I always say I'm an open book and this is no different. It's raw and real and all me. While my body is my fortress, it is also my worst enemy sometimes, shoving me face forward into the issues I don't want to confront. This journey of mine is...Christ, what is it? A chaotic mess? A grand gesture from the divine? A true blessing in disguise? A blessing and a curse? I'll go with blessing. Is it messy and chaotic? Absolutely! Is it also full of love and light and support? Yes, even if I struggle to see it at times.
Much love to each and every one of you who take time out of your own lives to read about mine. Know that the tears you shed are the rivers of tomorrow, always guiding you to something better. That's the way I see it anyway. ~Sandy