As i've mentioned before, all my blogs tend to come at periods of my life where i am struggling. This one is no different.
The past 6 months have been pretty much great! My running is seeing improvements almost weekly, my confidence in myself is growing, i have a truly amazing girlfriend who has also started running and my health, bar a hiccup in March has been great.
My anxiety has been very much under control, and my transplant unit psychologist has been astounded at my progress, and my ability to force myself into uncomfortable situations in order to fight my anxiety.
Azja's birthday coincided with a check up at the transplant cljnic, so we decided to head to the appointment, then we would head to Whitley Bay for lunch and a walk along the sea front, and then laptop shopping.
The morning started as always at 4:45am as i have to be at clinic for 7am. The drive through was uneventful, bar a spectacular sunrise as we headed east. As we arrived at hospital, as always, i needed the bathroom, a common reaction to any anxiety for millions of people. I signed in to clinic and we took our seats in the waiting area.
At this point i felt fine, talking with Azja and watching the hospital come to life.
Out of absolutely nowhere i started with the hot flush that accompanies a sudden burst of adrenaline - panic. I told Azja straight away as this isn't massively out of the norm, and i can usually shut it down almost as fast as it starts. This time however i couldn't stop it.
It's probably important at this point to mention that i was in a panic about absolutely nothing. Nothing! The only real thought accompanying it was to go outside. Which i tried repeatedly to no avail. A brief respite came, at the expense of another patient who almost collapsed from BP issues, who i rushed to catch & hold until a wheelchair came.
I mentioned to the clinic nurse that i was panicky for some reason and she took me straight in to the obs room, and took BP and pulse. BP was lower than normal for hospital visit, and pulse was barely clearing 60bpm, clear unrefutable evidence that absolutely fuck all is going inside my body, and it is all in the mind. After regular blood tests were taken we headed outside to the car so i could take a couple of kalms tablets. Whether these are pyscological or actually effective is anyones guess, but they have helped previously. We headed to the canteen to grab some food to take outside, thinking the early start and no breakfast might be behind the panic. Two small mouthfuls into a sausage sandwhich i started retching. I know why though, in panic/anxiety, your body is prepared for fight or flight, digestion shuts down to send more blood to the legs etc to prepare for war.
At this point however i started to feel like a horrible person for bringing Azja into this world of pain & suffering, that it is selfish of me, and that she deserves better from life than to be stuck with this medical reprobate who is panicking about nothing, but can't stop!
I know of course that this is utter bullshit, that if roles were reversed i would be stood next to her supporting her with my love & patience and she was with me, with no thoughts of wanting anyone else or wanting someone 'better'
We headed back inside for the ECG but literally seconds after sitting in the waiting room i had to escape, making it about 30mtrs before a physio caught hold of a very distraught and upset me and guided me into a curtained off cubicle in the physio dept.
I was scared now, not for several years had anything this bad happened. I couldn't seem to get a grip on anything, except that something other than panic was at play. The physio called across to the transplant clinic and the Sister of the clinic, Mary, came across to get me. I was feeling pretty lightheaded and not too steady on my feet so she wheeled me back in a wheelchair!
Back at clinic they ran extra tests, and studied the xrays & ECG to no avail, it was just panic.
I was feeling calmer by the end of the appointment, pissed off that i had ruined Azjas birthday though, with plans to head straight home.
Driving away from the hospital however i decided i wouldn't give in. I wouldn't run home and hide away, i would continue to fight this bastard affliction, and i would fucking win!
We headed to the Metro Centre (huge mall in the UK) to buy Azja a new computer for her birthday, under the agreement that if i felt panicky we hightailed it out of there!
We had a good 2 hour walk around the Metro, spent some money and bought some lunch. Though we ate lunch in the car, not wanting to push too many buttons!
The rest of the day was fine and without any issues.
This morning however i instigated the anxiety myself by dwelling on yesterdays events, and not the good parts. Filling my head with fears that the panics were back and life would once again be filled with fear.
Azja has been amazing, and i'm trying not to think stupid thoughts about her wanting someone better or resenting the way i am.
A fear of nothing. So why are we afraid?
