I think the phrase is “what doesn’t kill you…”
This week has been a bit of a shitstorm that I’ve put a brave face on. After having a ‘moment’ on Tuesday (read on) I’ve been asked a million times if I’m ok. “Oh, I’m fine!” or “it is what it is”. In truth, it frightened the life out of me.
I’d had a migraine on & off since last Friday. Sumatriptan was keeing it at bay, but every few hours it popped back to say Hi & stab me in the face along with feeling whoosy & jittery. A stressful week was hitting a bit of a high (it’s coursework deadline week) and I popped off to the loo before lunchtime club. As I transferred back to my chair everything went dark & I hit the deck.
So here I am crumpled on the floor of the toilet at work with a whoozy head and, oh fuck, a leg sticking out at a right angle. So I pulled the emergency cord & waited for the cavalry.
I could turn this into a long story about our poor first aider helping me snap things back into place, an ambulance being called, sitting on a toilet foor wondering what the hell just happened, but that’s not what threw me. Part of the ambulance being called was them doing the standard blood pressure and pulse checks. You’d expect my blood pressure to be a bit raised what with trying to remove my leg and being surrounded by buzzing people who I couldn’t hear properly. What you wouldn’t expect us for them to make that raised eyebrow face at each other, take my pulse on a different wrist, wince and explain carefully that I had an irregular pulse.
After being helped up onto my chair & being stabbed a few times to get an IV line in (I have no veins – he dug around for a good few minutes & I didn’t even bleed!), we headed downstairs to the ambulance where I was hooked up to an ECG. They look scary, but apart from being a bit sticky they’re fine. So out pops the first print out…
… Let’s do another…. And another… The readings are “weird” (their words)…
… The paramedics start talking over my head about Ts & Vs and mitral regurgitation… I explain clearly that I can’t hear them properly. They take one more reading and the paramedic asks me how much pain I’m really in. “It’s not that bad” (it’s a good 7/10). Then he hit me with the line that’s been whirling around since. “You need to stop being brave so we know whether these readings are intense pain, or a heart problem, or both”
How do you explain that the only way to deal with constant pain is to employ a degree of denial, and when a combination of a major dislocation, exhaustion, and another bollocking migraine hits meadured breathing and stepping out of my body is the only way to cope. You might see me joking with you, but I’m watching from a safe distance.
The decision is made that I need to go and play musical trollies in A&E, so I head off in the ambulance with Mr Geek following.
Several hours in a converted cupboard (stretched NHS in action, it was an actual cupboard that had been converted to accommodate more beds) amd I’ve had another ECG & an xray. They attempted to take blood, but my veins were having none of it so they gave up. Even the cannula in my hand had collapsed. Vampires be warned. I’m cleared to go home with referrals. Mr Geek pops out to get my chair & lovely dr comes in to make sure I understand that cardiology will be in touch about the mitral valve prolapse and to make sure I ask fracture clinic for physio. Despite being terribly busy, she was so distressed that I don’t have a regular consultabt overseeing everything. I’m on their books, but what can they do? I have a lovely GP and that means I just get on 90% of the time.
… 2 days later, I’ve jollied up and brushed off the “are you ok?”s. My knee is braced and every time I get palpitations from sitting up ‘mitral valve prolapse’ rings in my ears. Just for reference, when you get a thing that you don’t wholly understabd, don’t google it. Especially when the self care for it is to be calm!
In very non-medical terms, it’s where the valve that stops the blood from being pumped out of your heart allows it to leak back in making it less efficient and causing a traffic jam. I’m basicallyb running on a procedural paradigm where I was in object oriented.
So, the reduced caffeine version of me remains a bit headachey & whoosy and has a very sore knee. With adrenal dysfunction and an enourmously dysfunctional family, it’s a full time mission to remain calm so I’m cracking open the Headspace app and Podbean app every five minutes.
From what I can gather, conservative treatment is to reduce caffeine, calm the fuck down, and monitor the levels of reguritation.
Blood pressure & heart rate regulation drugs can be employed and of course there’s the oh so helpful complications list of heart damage, lung damage, starving the brain of oxygen (do not google!)
Of course this whole thing creates a catch 22 where the symptoms are mild chest pain and an awareness of the heartbeat, but you are aware of them because you’ve been told (chest pain is GERD, but mimicks scary chest pain). If nothing else, I’m seeing my lovely GP on Saturday and I can offload my worries there and I can return to denial. He’ll likely agree that being a whirlwind of stress and caffeine over btec exams probably wasn’t my smartest move and to get cardiology to just keep an eye.
So no, not so “fine”, but not in a place to talk in person about it yet.
Just as a side note for anyone in the US reading who wonders how much that little incident cost. To me, nothing. A little extra tax is paid and I was treated based on my symptoms, not my insurance. Sort yourselves out. Social Healthcare works. It’s not perfect, but what is?