Panic Attacks Are Fun

I was just getting a few things ready for pain doc day. I just needed to figure out what meds I was going to need first and then fill out the form for the pain doc. I was just standing there and realized that I needed my organizer to make my list which was on the other side of the room. In less than a minute, my heart was pounding and I was out of breath. I needed to sit down and did.

That's when it started taking everything I had not to explode. I wanted to scream because my two year calendar page ripped out of my organizer along with the straight edge while it was closed. My hands were shaking too badly to fit the straight edge onto the three rings of the binder. I was sitting there aware that I needed to write down my list of everything I needed re-prescribed but I couldn't remember how to say or spell any of my medicines. All I could remember was a concept of what each one did. Melissa nearly got her head bitten off because she decided to start getting ready for bed and had her back turned every time I wanted her to look at something. I'm still angry about that.

I knew I was having a panic/anxiety attack but it didn't matter. (There is a difference between the two but I can't remember what it is or mange to care.) The attack had me and there was no fighting it off. Even now, I cannot feel my lips. I need to replace my pain patch but I discovered a couple of sore spots on my ankles. It's been a few years but a sore spot on my ankle sent me to the hospital for a horrible experience. That's when I was outed as a diabetic to the medical system as a whole and when I lost all remaining respect for hospitals. They treated me like I was either harmlessly insane or hopelessly slow. Maybe this was triggered by my horror of ever going back.

In the midst of this panic attack, I need to remember that no one is sending me to the hospital. Of course, the pain doc appointment could change that conceivably but I have my main weapon. I have my ability to say the word, "no," as long as I can remain conscious. Moments like these make me consider the idea of isolating myself from the medical system as a whole. If entire religions can do it, so can I. Of course, I can't do that and take extensive pain medication so the idea remains rejected. I need to keep my uneasy peace with the system as a whole.