The Angina Monologues Part III

I gathered up all the chain maille stuff I was working on and put it away. I bid the ladies a cheery, "See ya tomorrow!" and left. I felt pretty crappy at this point, and was determined to get home. After all it was only an 8 mile trip, and pretty much a straight shot.

I was fine until I got to the stop light to turn back my lane. Suddenly I got a total body rush, and started seeing blinky lights at the end of a tunnel. They weren't the stoplight. My heart was pounding, and I felt all clammy. I KNEW I was dying. (I read it on WebMD) I started breathing deeply and telling myself that I was almost home. Once I got home I'd be okay. The tunnel cleared, and the lights went away, and I started back the lane to home.

The whole mile I debated, "Should I go to the hospital or should I go home?" After all, Obbie was flying home from San Francisco, and was due to be back at Midnight. And I avoid doctors like the plague (heh) and if he was along, maybe everything would be better. Or I'd die on the couch waiting for him. I opted to go home. The idea of sitting in the ER on a Friday night was a fate worse than death.

At home, I puttered around, trying not to be freaked out. By then I had started to feel a million times better, so I figured I wasn't going to die any time soon. I curled up on the couch under a quilt and a couple cats, and fell asleep.

Obbie got in around 1:00 am, and I explained what was going on. He said that if I felt that bad, we should go to the hospital now. "Oh no! I don't feel so bad now! Anyway, you're tired, so let's just sleep on it." (Meanwhile, according to WebMD, my heart was dying of lack of oxygen, so I'd probably be in the hospital several days instead of in and out) We went to bed, and I tossed and turned and rolled around until about 5:00 am when I woke Obbie and said, "Okay. I still feel like hell, let's go." He showered and got dressed, and I put on clean underwear, socks with no holes, and a presentable bra, because goodness knows, that's all very important.

We drove to the hospital, and found a parking space right up front. We waltzed in, and I was the only patient there. A nice young lady checked me in, and we sat down to wait for a nurse. Which took all of five minutes. The nice nurse (wearing black crocs with skeletons on them and scrubs made out of jeans) did my intake thing, asked a bunch of questions, and took my temp & BP. Three minutes later I found myself in a hospital bed strapped to an EKG. (Obbie got to come back because, "He's seen you naked right? Well yeah, we've been together like three years. Okay, he can come back) She made me lie perfectly still for what seemed like an eternity, until she got the read on the EKG. After the EKG, we chatted about beads & jewelry (she makes jewelry, and is a bead whore like me, we bonded.) "Stay put, I'll have the doctor come right over." she says. (Like I was going anywhere wearing a hospital gown)

The doctor came over and read the EKG, and asked me a million questions. (Coffee? Yes. Stress? Oh hell yes. Blood in the stool? No. and on and on) He smiled and told me that my blood pressure was okay, and my heart rate was just fine. "You're just experiencing a little anxiety." Really? No shit. I was THRILLED! (Because I had myself getting a heart catheter and open heart surgery and the whole bit) "You need to calm down a little bit, and be less stressed. I'm going to write you a prescription for some anti-anxiety meds, you can get it filled, or you can throw it in a drawer. Whichever you like. You're just fine, but you need to back off on the coffee a little bit, and just calm down, and quit reading WebMD." Heart attacks are a very serious pain and don't last a long time. You're having angina (or agita as Obbie says) It happens very often, and is rarely fatal. Just learn to relax a little bit." And that was that.

The nurse came back with my script, and to unhook me from the EKG. In doing so, pulling off a huge clump of hair off my leg, when I complained she said, "Well shave your legs the next time you come in!" We were apparently bead-buddies or something. She gave me her email address, and asked me to send her some beading information.

I practically skipped out of the hospital, with poor jet lagged Obbie behind me, smirking 'I told you so'. We went home and made tea & toast (because I was starving, in my anxiety of Friday, I didn't eat anything but a banana) and left for the craft show.

The day dragged, but we kept mildly amused by the Weeper and Pushpin. We didn't sell a whole lot, but at least made the booth fee back, and I got a custom chain maille order. At 2:00 we broke down the booth and went home, where we both passed out and slept until 8:00 that night.

So now I know. I have a fine heart, and for all intents & purposes, I'm fine. I need to just calm down a little bit, and not get so stressed about STUPID things. I need to back off the coffee, and stay away from Web MD. In case of emergency, I have a nice little batch of anti-anxiety medication that will make everything all warm and rosy.

That's my story & I'm sticking to it. Thanks for reading this week. Alls well that ends well.

Be aware, however, that chest pains are nothing to mess with, and if you're having them, don't be afraid and go directly to the hospital. The survival rate is very good if you get there quickly.

The Angina Monologues Part II

As the sniffing and weeping woman placed her painted glassware on the shelves she brought, I wondered to myself exactly what I'd gotten into this time. I unpacked the boxes, and started placing the displays on the table. The Weeper told me that the tables next to mine were her friend, who sold pushpins, and "It didn't take her long to set up at all. Some people have all the luck!"

After an hour, I had pretty much gotten all the display stuff set up properly, and was ready to place the jewelry. The other woman had joined us. They loudly bantered back and forth, oblivious to me in the corner.

I learned that Weeper had been weeping because the organizers of the craft show had placed her in one area, and the Pushpin lady (her friend) in another, AND THEY HAD TO BE TOGETHER, BECAUSE THEY ALWAYS DID SHOWS TOGETHER, THE NERVE OF SOME PEOPLE!!

Meanwhile, my chest was aching like crazy, and my heart was doing it's little fluttery thing that it does once in awhile. The room was tiny, and full of the Weeper's hot air as she bitched and moaned to Pushpin. It was getting really claustrophic. My face was beet red, and I felt like hell. But I figured I only had to get this mess set up before the folks started arriving in droves, which would shut up the Weeper.

When the droves arrived, they turned out to be various and sundry little old ladies, their walkers and their scooters, who were all looking for cutesy bowling themed items for their corkboards at the home. (Walkers & bowling? Who knew. I'm betting it's a Wii thing)

The Weeper continued on and on about her exceptionally gifted children, and her exceptional cat, and her job which pays less than what high school kids get for babysitting. Her cell phone rang loudly three or four times, and each time she squealed and jumped. Her kids were calling to see if she wanted them to bring her dinner. (Bad form in my opinion, if you're a vendor at a show sponsored by a church, who was kind enough to give menus to vendors, the least you can do it eat there, it is, after all, a benefit) She wanted a shake from Arby's, and the kids apparently told her shakes weren't available, because the machine was down. This prompted her to rant, "THE SHAKE MACHINE IS BROKEN? DON'T THESE PEOPLE KNOW HOW TO FIX A SHAKE MACHINE?!"

And my chest hurt more.

After an hour or so, Weeper's family arrived. A small pale man, a small pale little boy (the gifted muscian you know, because Mom was a gifted violin player) and a pasty little girl with circles under her eyes, whose first words were, "I had the worst day of my WHOLE LIFE today." Poor thing, she's only six. They were all giddy with delight, for they DID bring Weeper a shake, ha-ha, aren't we clever! But the ham and swiss sandwich had too much mayo. "WHAT DOES LIGHT MAYO MEAN TO YOU??" They all stood around and looked at each other while Weeper went on and on about the shortcomings of her ham & cheese. I was very invisible.

At 7:45, I was silently rejoicing because it was almost time to leave this room, and my chest gave a big THUD-DUD, and it felt liked someone shoved a knitting needle into the middle of my chest. Oh shit. It's THE chest pain, I thought. Maybe I'll be okay, it wasn't anything. Yeah, that's it. I'll get home and lay down in the quiet, and everything will be okay.

Tomorrow: Part III (Yes, I'm milking it out)

The Angina Monologues - Part I

Remember two weeks ago I mentioned chest pains? They didn't go away completely. As a matter of fact they've been lurking in the background, keeping me silently freaking the hell out, and scanning the internet for information on "Chest Pain" and "Women's Heart Attacks"

I was off work on Friday to prepare for the first craft show of the year. Since the last show of last season (in November) neither Obbie or I had gone thru any of the tubs to reorganize the display materials. So of course, that had to be done before set up Friday afternoon.

I organized the tubs, and loaded the car, then set off to the church where the show was being held. All the while my chest was aching furiously.

I unloaded the three tables (with the help of a little old man and a handcart) and lugged the three tubs into the area where I was to set up for the show. A lady was there, weeping, and arranging some painted glassware. Obviously, she and I were sharing a space, and from the looks of her, it was going to be a long weekend. She informed me that her friend was also joining us, and was going to have a stand in between her stuff and me, so I'd be wedged into a corner. Lovely.

Tomorrow: Part II