All Journal Entries Journals
Sort By:  

Beta Blocker numb

Jan 31, 2009 - 1 comments

On beta blocker three days now. PVCs and PACs still with me, more frequent than ever. Maybe 3 a minute? 4? But I don't "feel" them as much. They flutter and sputter now, instead of thudding and pounding. Still terrifying. Still depressing to think it will never go away. Constant reminder of mortality. Pain in chest and upper back, left side of neck. Nearly constantly. I do have good moments, now and then, when I feel like the old me. I dread them, actually, because they get my hopes up that I might be okay. Then the skips and hops and thumps return and I remember: I'm not well anymore.

Tired of all the "this is benign" stuff. This condition seems to lead to all sorts of other things that are NOT benign. It's like telling a person on a raft in smooth water that they've got nothing to worry about, even though the river leads directly to a steep waterfall. The doctors know what's coming. They just don't want to contribute to our anxiety. The "benign" thing seems to me to be part of the treatment. I dunno.

All the crying and distancing has helped me cope with the loss of my old self and life. I am at peace with this curse now. I feel like I could die and it would be okay. I've come to terms with the loss. Strange. It was a thing I did not anticipate having to do at 39, but illness and death know no age limits; they grip all of us, some of us sooner than others.

I envy religious people their certainty of something beyond. I don't have that. I am too skeptical and scientific for that. I wish I could believe in a happy ending on the other side. It would sure make all of this a lot easier. Sometimes it ***** being a cynic. Other times, it comes in handy; like, when watching Curb Your Enthusiasm.

Find myself watching a lot of TV to escape. Anything to get out of this mind and body for a while.

PVCs and my slow disappearance from my old life

Jan 28, 2009 - 2 comments








It has been a month since the first PVCs. They are getting worse. Chest pain, terror. I feel myself slipping away from my old life, from all I used to be. I am distancing myself from my husband and son because I feel like they should get used  to life without me. I am utterly convinced this is going to kill me. My doctor tells me this is benign. I don't believe him. I have seen studies to indicate otherwise. I wish I had a better doctor. I believe in my gut that these are a sign of impending death. I feel death at my shoulder. I am mourning my own life. I used to be happy, and my husband and I laughed all the time. Now I cry. He looks at me with fear and pity. My son doesn't know me anymore. I went to read him a story the other night and he said "I want daddy, I'm not used to you." I have withdrawn from everything I used to love, because I want to make sure they can manage without me before I disappear. Sometimes I think it would be easier to end it quickly than to endure this horrific decline. My speech is slightly slurred now, too, like I have a stutter I never used to have. I don't know what is happening to me, but I hate it. I miss me.