Food and Weight: An Ongoing Journey

Hurry Up and Wait…

Posted on: September 22, 2013

I saw the cardiologist this past Wednesday. Marc was kind enough to go with me in case there was stuff to hear that I was freaking out too much to hear.

The good news is that we are still not in a major rush. The cardiologist noted some improvement, but not enough. He had also done some research and has revised his opinion about why I am having trouble speaking. He seems to now think that the heart is compressing a nerve, which is keeping me from speaking normally.

He was not happy with my blood pressure, which was higher than it usually is, or with the edema around my ankles, although he did note it was less than before. He has doubled my Carvedilol to 25 MG twice a day.

He also had the hospital (Mount Sinai) call me to set up an appointment for an angiogram. That will take place on the 30th. What happens after that will depend on what they find. With luck, there won’t be anything other than what we already know about, in which case I will get to go home that night, and consult with the cardiologist about what to do next. If they do find other stuff, like greater heart damage than they are aware of or blockages from cholesterol, they might want to admit me and do some kind of surgery ASAP. So, I will be bringing an overnight bag with me when I go.

Last night was the third Saturday fannish party in upper Manhattan. Marc found parking about a block and a half away, so we grabbed it. I was able to make my way up the hill to the building the party was in with just a quick pause or two to catch my breath, but I was not wiped out by the effort.

The Brooklyn Book Festival is today, and we (the roomie, Marc, Kathy, and I) are planning to go. Fortunately, there will be places to sit in the plaza, and on the steps of Brooklyn Borough Hall, if need be.

Right now, the hardest thing for me is to remember that I need to put myself first. There are so many of my friends dealing with various crises at the moment, and I wish I could help them all, but I just don’t have the spoons to do so. (If you don’t know what that means, here is the article by Christine Miserandino that explains the Spoon Theory.) Still, I’m used to being the person who helps people when they have problems, not to being the one with the problems.

Mainly, though, I hate waiting. I want this to be over with, so I can be fighting my way back to health. I want to be able to walk and talk like a normal human being again (well, normal for me, anyway). Mostly, I just want my life back.



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