Maybe all those years of Barry Manilow have finally sunk in?
If I was in an online game right now, I'd do /giggle self . . . . .
I do seem to have been a bit med-focused lately, but it's been sort of our own little medical ward here lately it has felt like.
Like a medical tv show, only more boring.
The panic attack was triggered by a question regarding any conditions I or husband (dd's father) may have, at the end of the Instacare appointment (she was throwing up as he entered the room, thus the history occuring at the end). By this time I had repeated dd's bronchitis story 3+ times in less than an hour so I started mechanically listing stuff off, "Oh geez, let's see - bipolar, OCD, agoraphobia, panic disorder . .. . . " yada yada, more stuff, and then I got to the knee and mentioned that, and the recent arhtroscopy, and the diagnosis, that was said to be because of genetics, and extremely bad, unpredictable, extremely early osteoarthritis, etc.
Anyway, that's pretty much about the gist, maybe not the exact words, but basically what I said, and the quantity thereof, but when I got to the knee part I just started crying; not SOBBING, just tears started rolling as I kept talking, and I became emotional - I was embarrased about that, but kept going with trying to answer his question as briefly as I felt I could. I was pretty brief! And you know how I can go on.
I get overwhelmed easily, though - listing off all my conditions like that, especially after explaining what had been going on with my daughter over, and over, and over . . . . and then at the end, not being able to control my emotion (the doctor was very kind, he was standing actually near me, I was sitting, obviously it's not been a month yet since surgery, although it's getting there) and he put his hand on my shoulder in empathy and understanding - I believe he could tell I was embarrassed about my tears, as well as that obviously I had just seen the results of a difficult diagnosis, seen inside my knee, and all that.
So, he finishes up with a cheery statement about, "But, your daughter is going to be just fine, so that's GREAT!", and gives me an encouraging (but non-patronizing) smile, tells us we're done, can go, reiterates some instructions, and then is gone.
We're quickly back out in the waiting area, waiting for our ride home, and it's been 5 mins or less since the emotions came out, and I have the panic attack. I feel like an idiot about the whole interaction there, at the end of the appointment. Or I felt like it, anyway, to a large degree (I've since discussed it in therapy, as well as having applied some techniques at the time and afterwards to try to counter and cope with the attack, etc.)
All you would have seen is a mother and daughter, the daughter having fun looking at fish, and a stressed out, tired and perhaps pained-looking mom, with tears rolling down her cheeks. Perhaps looking tense or really tense, I am unsure exactly of quite how I looked, but I do know that I was able to "contain the damage", or keep the attack from escalating, in one area, by telling myself that really all I looked like was someone sitting there silently crying.
I just hate that it makes no sense.
Panic attacks, or the "little" "things" one panics over. I'm not a robot tho, nor am I an entirely emotional being, without logic or/nor intellect. Sometimes the conflict between the two can lead to a panic attack. The problem(s) with balance(ing)(es) can and do often lead to panic attack(s) as well.
Balance. Something I've never, ever, EVER been good at.
Guess this post doesn't sound mellow!
I did want to fulfill my promise to talk about the panic attack, though!
I'm si5tting here, with the door open, soaking up the late aftenoon sun, enjoying the day, and just FEELING it, and feeling mellow.
I also had a really good therapy session earlier today. I postponed the appointment from earlier this week due to my daughter's illness. She was asleep with a 104 fever and had recently had medicine to bring it down, and I wasn't going to wake her up to drag her out so's hubby could drop me off for therapy. So I called and canceled, apologizing with a short explanation and asking for a reschedule. Sometimes as a parent you have those choices. Plus I don't have a driver's license, and even if you ignored that, I recently had surgery, so driving wouldn't be a good idea, especially with a stick shift.
Anyway, think of the Sheryl Crow song, "I'm Gonna Soak Up Some Sun" or whatever it's called, and that's what I'm doing, and mellowing out. Oh, and listening to all the hoopla over the American Idol top three finalist, Archuletta (I always mix up his first name w/someone else's) being HERE, in Salt Lake City, today. The kid can sing, that's for sure.
Gonna go read a magazine outside in the sunshine! See ya'll!
