Tuesday, late morning, walking my dog at the park. Something doesn’t feel right. I’m having a hard time breathing and for the last two nights I can barely get to sleep. I feel like I can’t breathe fully.
There had been some local wildfires, so I was thinking I was just having trouble getting clean oxygen. In reality, I was having congestive heart failure . . . again.
About halfway through the circuit around the park, I convinced myself I wasn’t going to make it all the way back around. I coaxed Westin into cutting across the grass, and I was struggling to get my pretty fancy phone to dial my brother. Paraphrasing, I told him to come get me so we can go to the hospital (in hindsight, yes, I should have just had an ambulance take me. It happened anyway, when I was transferred to Overlake from the local regional hospital.)
I outlined all this in the past on my Facebook feed, but it bears repeating for this journal. I had a period where I was feeling great after having SOME medical attention and meds. But, I had a lapse in insurance because of income considerations and I took the unwise risk of putting off dealing with it until the next enrollment period. All avoidable. All stupid.
I spent 3 days in the hospital this time. What liquid that had built up in my chest was medicated out of me and we took another close look at my then-diagnosed “mild” diabetes. Turns out, not so mild.
I’m not sure how many wake-up calls you are allowed, but I have not spent the last year dwelling on that. I got my insurance sorted, been diligent with meds (even though I had to REALLY shop to find the right insurance that would help pay for the meds I need) and even went so far as to start dealing with other health issues, like the poor condition of my teeth.
Today, I’m doing SO much better. I learned my lesson. If I want to be around for any more of this miracle called Life I can’t let things slide. This month I have dramatically reduced my sugar intake and have started tracking my meals. I have a digital scale on the way and plan on increasing my activity. I can’t allow the fear of a weakened heart get in the way of trying to make it stronger. And ALL of my doctors agree I’m making marked improvements. I’m still on a ton of meds, but the keep me from having these kinds of self-imposed visits to the E.R.
Glad to still be here. Glad you are all here to remind me how much I’m missed.