Good Ol' Hump Day
It was a rather interesting day. I had the typical daily stress of catching up and handling each new emergency as it arose. About 4:30, I felt this wave in my chest. I wasn't under any particularly large amount of stress at the time. Then I noticed my hands were tingling. It became a little difficult to breathe - in that I kept having to remind myself to breathe. My hair tingled like I had the flu. I decided to step outside and get some fresh air. Everything looked and felt so surreal. It's like I wasn't really there.
I went back upstairs to my cubicle and laid on the floor. I tried to stretch and breathe deeply. It got worse, and I could feel my pulse fading. I leapt back to my feet - how I didn't collapse I still have no idea. I set my computers to auto-pilot and I drove myself to the emergency room.
I made it to the front desk with little trouble. I explained myself as best as I could. My vitals were checked and I was admitted to the ER for treatment. A nurse came along and re-checked my vitals, I explained myself once again. The nurse left and shortly, a real doctor appeared. Once again, I repeated my tale once more. I was examined, which mainly consisted of listening to my heart while I breathed deeply.
After all was said and done, it was concluded that I had a panic attack. I have had one before where I landed in an ER. This one seemed different, maybe because it was ten years later. The doc gave me an Ativan and had an EKG run just to be sure. All perfect results. After waiting what seemed like an eternity, I was released and given a prescription for more Ativan - just in case I have another episode.
Great. I feel foolish. But then, I suppose it's better to be safe than sorry. I just don't understand why I had the attack at all. I wasn't feeling anxious or stressed out at the moment it began.
So, now I am chasing my Ativan with Bailey's Irish Cream. I feel fuckin' great. All my ex's could come to me right now and chew me up and spit me out, and it wouldn't phase me.
Don't think I will be doing much else for the rest of the night.
I went back upstairs to my cubicle and laid on the floor. I tried to stretch and breathe deeply. It got worse, and I could feel my pulse fading. I leapt back to my feet - how I didn't collapse I still have no idea. I set my computers to auto-pilot and I drove myself to the emergency room.
I made it to the front desk with little trouble. I explained myself as best as I could. My vitals were checked and I was admitted to the ER for treatment. A nurse came along and re-checked my vitals, I explained myself once again. The nurse left and shortly, a real doctor appeared. Once again, I repeated my tale once more. I was examined, which mainly consisted of listening to my heart while I breathed deeply.
After all was said and done, it was concluded that I had a panic attack. I have had one before where I landed in an ER. This one seemed different, maybe because it was ten years later. The doc gave me an Ativan and had an EKG run just to be sure. All perfect results. After waiting what seemed like an eternity, I was released and given a prescription for more Ativan - just in case I have another episode.
Great. I feel foolish. But then, I suppose it's better to be safe than sorry. I just don't understand why I had the attack at all. I wasn't feeling anxious or stressed out at the moment it began.
So, now I am chasing my Ativan with Bailey's Irish Cream. I feel fuckin' great. All my ex's could come to me right now and chew me up and spit me out, and it wouldn't phase me.
Don't think I will be doing much else for the rest of the night.
posted by Gern at 11:53 PM
1 Comments:
Holy Hell Batman! Are you alright? Criminy. Now I'm worried bout ya. Don't worry bout anything you dropped with me, I took it in the spirit it was meant. Geez.
Geez. Maybe you should take a nice relaxing massage and two orgasms and call me in the morning.
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