The beating of the drum

Who knew when I started my 30-day challenge, that I’d be writing more on my blog (we’ll see how long it lasts).

So last night, I decided to go the gym. I get there, did 40 minutes on the elliptical at a pretty steady pace and felt good, did a short row on the machine (found out, I am not a rower), and then did a 10 minute cool down walk on the treadmill. I was feeling good, and decided that I should do my stretching and avoid the mess of waking up in the morning with the inability to move.

On my way home, I stop at the store and encounter a checkout guy who skipped the “polite conversation” class and unloaded on me about the troubles he is having with his car. I feign total disinterest, but this is lost as he holds my groceries hostage.

So I get home, grab a snack, and wash off the gym. Then I settle down to catch up on Doctor Who. Good episode (end of a two-parter) and then I notice my heart is racing a little. Then a lot.

So I go to our trusted home blood pressure monitor and strap in, and get my first reading (169/79 with a 94 “resting” pulse). I think to myself – through a veiled panic – that is a little high, but I had just climbed the stairs, so decided to relax some, do my breathing, and take it again (155/86/98). One down, and two up.

So I’m willing myself to relax, breathing more, and listening to the pounding in my chest. A short time later, I notice a pain in the left side of my chest and thought this is not right, so took the BP again. 168/96/96 – so two up, and one down and at least I have a matching pair. So then I start to freak out – as one does, and lay on the ground and really try to relax.

As I listened to the house reverberatng with the beating of my drum, breathing in, breathing out, I pressed the BP button again: 171/93/126. So at this point, I’m really freaking out. I head downstairs, get changed, called a friend to see if they were awake to drive me to hospital (they were snoozing as they should), I jumped in the car and drove to the hospital. Much of the trip is a blur – for reasons that I shan’t go into for concern of law enforcement reading this, but as I’m driving my left arm goes numb and I try to get to the hospital quicker (again, no details).

So there I was at Centennial Hospital in a wheelchair being driven to a room to get checked out, and then the pounding starts to slow down, the pain starts to dissipate, and I realize that this was more mental than physical. (Side note, Doctor Who is pretty good, but even that episode that I was watching was not THAT good that it could have triggered this reaction.)

So about two hours later, after a few tests, a pep talk by the ER doctor, and a realization that I can get a little overwhelmed at times, I got back in my car and drove home.  The ER doctor reminds me that the body can deal with a lot, but sometimes the mind can overwhelm the body into thinking something is happening when it is not (you know the speech about “fight or flight”). Minds a fantastic creations, but mine sometimes terrorizes me.

I didn’t watch the remaining part of the Doctor Who episode, but I did calm down (thank you little white pill) and headed of to sleep. And sleep I did.