Monday, October 16, 2006

such a weekend... 

There's the good part...and there's the bad part. I'll start with the bad part, because I'd rather leave y'all with an upper:

HSTeacher had to take me to the emergency room on Saturday evening. I was scared, let me tell you. I had a racing heart (HSTeacher and I timed it at about 120 beats a minute at one point - my heart doesn't get that fast even when I work out) and I was feeling very fuzzy and slow, with some tunnel vision and my perception of time and reality completely off. I felt as if I were hyperventilating, but I was having no problems with breathing, so I knew I was getting enough oxygen to my brain. It was very scary.

I gave it about twenty minutes, to see if it were a minor panic attack or something, but it just wouldn't stop. We went outside to get some fresh air, which helped take a tiny bit of the fuzziness away. For about two minutes. Then the fuzziness came back full force, so I asked HSTeacher to call the Kaiser Nurse Advice Line, and after describing my symptoms and my history, they suggested we go to the emergency room, so we did.

We were there for two hours, but most of that wasn't waiting in the waiting room - it was being treated. Everything except my heart seemed fine - blood pressure, oxygen levels, blood work. My heart rate was about 94 when we went in and lowered to 84 by the time we left - it was determined that I was dehydrated, so they gave me an IV that took forever to drip into my arm. That helped a lot, as did HSTeacher trying to distract me with a large number of rather bad jokes. I tried to joke back, but I'm notoriously at remembering jokes, so I just smiled and groaned and even laughed a little.

At one point (before they gave me the IV) I was lying down and the doctor asked me to sit up, whereupon my heart rate jumped - she said that was another indicator of dehydration. After the IV was empty, she had me sit up again and my heart rate stayed steady.

The strange thing is, HSTeacher said that, aside from my racing heart, I seemed completely fine, but there was no way he could tell that I was using all of my concentration to try to stay calm and to sound lucid. I knew I was talking, I knew what I was saying made sense to people hearing me and I remember what I said, but it didn't feel as if I knew what I was actually saying. I've never been dehydrated like that before and I don't know why it hit me so hard and so weirdly. HSTeacher and I had been drinking, but I'd only had one and a half drinks, so I don't think that could have been it. The only thing that was different was that I had had some ibuprofen during the day (one small tablet in the morning and one in the evening) because my arthritic neck had been bothering me off and on all day. I tend to very careful mixing pain relievers and alcohol (as in, I don't), but this one time I may have taken it too close to the drink I'd had with dinner, so there may have been an interaction that exacerbated any dehydration I may have had.

I'm fine now - still a bit tired, as the experience took a lot out of me (I was still exhausted and a bit spacy yesterday), but I'll definitely be okay. I'm going to follow-up with an appointment at a clinic this week, just to make sure everything is okay. Seeing as heart disease runs in the family and I've been diagnosed with costochondritis in the past (not life-threatening at all, but occasionally annoying), I want to keep everything in decent condition.

However, I suspect I'll have to give up caffeine - this morning I had a few sips of a mocha from a coffee cart on-lab and my heart started beating fast again. Nowhere near as bad as Saturday night, but there was a definite difference. It's a good thing I like decaf coffee.

And now, for the good:

HSTeacher and I said those three little words this weekend.

Yep, "How about pizza?"

Okay, maybe not those words. A few weeks ago HSTeacher had told me that he was ready to say that he loved me the first time we made love (he actually said, "I've been thinking those three words since the first time we made love."), but he didn't want to freak me out, knowing how skittish I was, so he didn't say anything. And he was right to wait - I would not have been ready at that time.

Last week I confessed that I'd been thinking those words as well, but I couldn't say them. Well, Saturday during the day, as we were cuddling on his bed, I screwed up my courage and mouthed the words. He mouthed them right back with a huge smile. We've said them a few times since.


It's been a long time since I've spoken those words to a man. I've written them before, but it was to someone who didn't return my feelings, which shattered me pretty badly. So you can imagine that, even with HSTeacher's confession, I was very nervous about actually saying the words, "I love you." Which is why I had to mouth them first.

HSTeacher said that it was a pretty intense weekend, and he was absolutely right.


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Carol/Female/36-40. Lives in United States/California/Los Angeles/San Fernando Valley, speaks English. Spends 40% of daytime online. Uses a Normal (56k) connection.
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