"Huh, Well This Is New..."

The first thing I noticed was the shaking.  Not violent, but like I was vibrating at a very high frequency.  My eyes couldn't focus, my hand could barely hold the pen with which I was writing down pertinent information.  My jaw quivering slightly.  Then there was pressure, in my chest cavity.  Not pain, an aching, slightly working it's way around.  My breathing became labored and forced.  But I was on a call, at work, I knew something was wrong, but I had to keep it together until the call was done.  I hit the "Not Ready" button on my phone in anticipation.

One of my managers came over and asked if I was okay.  I opened my mouth, but the only thing that came out was a strained, wheezy "I don't know."  She asked if I needed to go outside and get some air.  I stood, and immediately felt woozy and unsteady.  While I held on to the shelf over my desk, she went to get a couple of coworkers to help me downstairs.  More people joined us downstairs, as I sat on a ledge outside, shaking even more for the cold air.  We went back inside, where I sat in a lobby chair, while building security called for an ambulance.  I drank my water while coworkers gave me words of encouragement.  My shaking got worse.

The ride to the hospital was like being a kid, sitting in that way back stowaway seat in an old station wagon.  I remember thinking, as I saw where we'd just been pass us, that this was the way I normally came home from work.  But I wasn't going home.  I was going to the emergency room.  And I wasn't sure what was wrong.  They gave me oxygen and told me to breathe in through my nose and out my mouth.

Being wheeled through the ER, I was given a private room, where they shifted me from the ambulance stretcher to an examination table.  The tightness in my chest was still there, but the doctor said I was merely having an anxiety attack.  No EKG was run, but a few minutes later a woman came in with two small white pills and a cup of water.  Ativan, it was.  After about 20 minutes, I finally started to calm down, and then all I felt was tired.

All told, I was probably in the ER for about an hour or so.  In the meantime, someone at work called my emergency numbers, and my ride was waiting for me at the front door.  When I got home, I called my doctor, who wrote me a new scrip for Ativan, and went to bed.  That was Thursday.  I took Friday off, played a couple of Gobshites shows over the weekend, and then took Monday off as well.  I've taken the Ativan a few times since then, but it's only an as-needed kind of thing, so it's not really a daily routine.

I'm back at work, breathing better.  I'm still better than I was, and getting better still.

The adventure continues...