With my hives out of control (I'm now convinced that they are indeed related to my ungodly stress level) I left work early to see my doctor. Surprisingly I weighed in a bit less than I thought I was going to...a diet consisting of worry and heartache can do wonders for the waistline.
I sat in the office dreading the conversation, because I knew my chart would pull up my past medical history which would also include Lexapro & Clonzapam and sleep medication.
The nice doctor sat in front of me, took a look at my skin, took my blood pressure, asked me the standard battery of questions and decided to talk to me about stress, insomnia, and my breathing. I was of course honest. I told him I have a history of mild panic attacks. He then asked me more about my stress, (I could see what was coming next and I swore I wasn't going to tear up.) and asked if there was anything currently going on. I told him there was some problems at home, and of course my eyes began to well up. He handed me a tissue.
Then the kicker: "Do you want to hurt yourself?"...."No. Not now", I repsonded.
"Have you had sucicidal thoughts?".....I sighed very deeply..."Yes, maybe a few years back."
It just hung out there for a minute.
"Have you see a psychiatrist?"......"Yes, but in honesty....I don't think it helped. All it accomplished was making my wallet lighter."
"You need to see one again son." He handed me a pamphlet on managing stress. I had a hard time looking him in the eye at that moment. I hate those pamphlets...like some stupid tri-leaf telling me to exercise more, hang around exciting people, and talk about my problems, accented by goofy cartoon figures is gonna solve my problems.
"We want to do an EKG on you as long as you are here."
I laid back down on the table and a nurse came in and labeled my skin in various pint with diodes and what not and a machine was wheeled in to measure my heart. The test took about 5 minutes and was painless, and the doctor returned after a few to discuss the results.
"Well, it looks okay....However, I'd like to send you to another facility for a treadmill stress test. Do that and we'll talk again."
He wrote me out a perscription for some steroids for my rash and I was on my way.
I sauntered out to the parking lot where my car was and just sat down in the driver seat again for a few minutes. I could feel the warmth emmanating from my cloth seats from being in the sun and glanced again at the stress pamphlet. Just glanced and turned it over...didn't read it. I've read it 100 times before.
It's now 4:30 pm. I decide I need to talk to someone else...a confidant from my church. I give him a ring and thankfully he is home. I simply ask if he can meet me to talk. I really don't know what I want to say, but he's going to meet me in 15 minutes at our church.
I think about this for a minute, and can't help but think about it again as I sit and type out this entry.....I don't want to tell my parents....I don't want to tell my in-laws.....I don't want to talk to my childhood friends.....I don't even want to tell my wife right now (and honestly, I'm not sure she's even understand...she hasn't before, so why would today be any diffrent). Yes, I called a elder in my church to be around with for a while....possibly to vent....just some companionship really.....I just want someone to listen who isn't related and doesn't want my money for a change.
I'm off to meet him....
to be continued.....
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