Here’s the thing for me. As you know I have PTSD. My panic attacks are usually MENTAL — not physical in any way. I go into OCD mode, obsessing about the thing (whatever the thing is — I google and research, read about the thing for hours on end — hyper hyper focus.) I cry, I fret, I SHAKE MY FIST AT THINGS, GOD AND PEOPLE!
I had one “traditional panic attack” before this one. I had the pins and needles thing from head to toe on the RIGHT SIDE of my body only. I thought I was having a stoke, and was definitely sure death was imminent.
Doc gave me the Xanax. I took two and was still a wide-awake-raving lunatic for the next four hours until I was finally able to sleep. Doc also refused to allow me to leave his office on my own. He called my dad! So embarrassing!
This last thing (that got me admitted to the hospital) felt like some one had my heart in their hand and was squeezing it tight. Then that imaginary person thought, “oh I’m not squeezing her heart tight enough, I need a vice grip.” And the clamps were applied not just to my heart itself, which, “fuck you imaginary heart squeezer person!” but they were fitted also around my breast bone.
I was breathless, sweating and nauseated — for five to seven minutes. And then it slowly let up, like letting off a gas peddle. But the “OMFG I WANT TO VOMIT ON YOUR SHOES, DOCTOR” feeling lasted until the next morning.
Jack Herlocker, you know I became a Cyborg because of the pins and needles thing (that and ridiculous amounts of pain) in my right arm, right? Just as a refresher, here’s an X-Ray of my right forearm:
They broke my ulna and took a piece out of the middle. The big screw in the middle is where the fracture line was (it’s grown back together quite nicely)…
The pins and needles thing was a three year feeling until doc did this to me…
I guess, I’m saying:
Unicorns & Centaurs,