I have seen my general practitioner more times in the last six months than I have in the last six years. Yesterday, I stopped by his office to talk about chest pain. After my bout with the as-yet-undiagnosed-abdominal-pain, I noticed that I had persistent tenderness at the top of my rib cage. This was combined with an ever-present feeling of being poked from inside my stomach, which occasionally progressed to a stabbing pain right where one places their hand to pledge allegiance to our flag. Throw in an occasional fluttering sensation that travels up my throat, and ...strange, right?
So I ignored it. Because that seemed reasonable, despite the fact that my father died of heart disease at the age of 55. I'm only 46, you know.
Truthfully, I thought it was residual pain from the maybe-it's-my-gallbladder attack. I kept waiting for it to go away. But it hung around, and it's not anywhere near my gallbladder. So, since we all know women with cardiac issues present different symptoms than men, I went to see the doctor. Lucky for me, they have an EKG machine right in the office, and the echocardiagram tech was in for the day! They ran a quick tape on me, and my heart rhythm was fine. Then I walked one room over, and the echo guy did an ultrasound of my heart. I haven't bared my breasts that many times in one day since college.
Quick glance showed the heart looks fine. So, the doctor asked me if I'm stressed. I find this question humorous, and frustrating. Is there anyone who answers in the negative? I absolutely believe that stress can trigger any number of physical responses, but I would still prefer a more concrete reason for my pain. I don't want to go on anti-anxiety medication, just to see if it makes things better. I already don't have enough energy to do everything that needs to get done, and sometimes meds S-L-O-W you down. I was a coke fiend, people; I'm not looking for the mellow.
I told the doc I don't think I'm any more stressed than I was six or twelve months ago. However, my comparisons are always based on when my anxiety was at near-catastrophic levels--when One ran away; the four months Three was home from school with debilitating anxiety; every day that Four suffered in his public school first grade. In contrast, life is pretty rosy these days.
I am willing to entertain the possibility that I am overextended. In the past six months, I've started a blog, entered writing contests, attended NECRWA, and made a commitment to finish the novel. Add in managing the herd, cooking gourmet meals, and routinely engaging in the hot sex, and there aren't a lot of hours left in the day. And my schedule isn't going to get any lighter for the next six weeks, as I plan a graduation party, attend RWA National in New York, and pack for the big family vacation. So...I think something's gotta give.
Just kidding. Actually, it will more than likely be the copious amounts of time I spend catching up with all of you. I love sitting down in the morning and cruising through everyone's blogs, or reading facebook and twitter. When my iPhone alarms at 5:50 a.m., I check my email, and read Julie and Kristel's comments on the Diary. It forces my eyes to focus long enough to get me out of bed.
Now, I think I have to use my social media time to finish the manuscript, which is what got me here in the first place. I'm not slipping the clasp on the Diary, but I may not write in it every day. Because, more than giving you a place to visit me, I want to give you my novel. Soon.