Jan 31, 2009
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.