Hi,
I have to admit that I tend to write my blogs with the thought that someone is reading, someone who may even know me, which may or not be true. I often take the reader, you, into consideration and rarely mention too much that might put me into any light other than happy, well adjusted and positive-thinking. I’m feeling extremely troubled and I decided that I will share with you the recent turn in the personal reality of health.
Since I can remember, though I’ve never had a fear of the water or drowning, I’ve had dreams of drowning, or I should say a particular dream of drowning. I jump in the water thinking that the bottom is 6 foot or so under the surface. I slice through the water in anticipation of my feet touching the floor of the dark pool so I can spring myself up, come shooting out of the water, face up and smiling. Only there is no bottom. By the time that I realize this, it’s too late. I panic. I begin to struggle. Stop! Stop this sinking! I begin reaching to the toward the top of the water and then the sick feeling, reality sets in. It’s hopeless. I have to breathe, even if only to suck water. There’s no choice, now. I wake up gasping for air, sweating and exhausted from the thought. I’m sitting straight up in bed with no one to comfort me, no one to say, “You’re fine. Let me hold you”.
For years when I was younger, I thought I would simply die someday by drowning. I developed asthma in my 20s and I decided that THIS was the trigger for the dreams. Having never actually drowned, I imagined having an attack might feel like drowning. Was I going to die from this? Was that what the dreams meant? Medications have never worked on my asthma and when I would have a respiratory illness it’s always felt dramatic.
I remember a couple of years ago, after having a terrible bout with pneumonia/bronchitis that left me especially frightened from not being able to breathe, I finally said out loud to my husband, ” I have this terrible feeling that this is how I’m going to die. All of this gasping for air and the panic that sets in when you can’t catch your breath. It feels so much like all those dreams. What a terrible way to go.”
I’ve been noticing for quite sometime, now, that it is harder and harder to catch my breath. I had a terrible 3 month illness last Summer that was some sort of pneumonia/bronchitis. It was awful. I slept 10-12 hours a day and my oxygen levels were 87. I could barely function. I had to pray/meditate a lot to get through it and to keep myself from panicing when I couldn’t breath. So, knowing that it can take a very long time to get over the exhaustion of something like that, I kept waiting for my energy to come back. We spent nearly 2 months in Mexico this past winter and I felt better and was excited to think I was bouncing back. But, then it was back to Colorado and I began to feel tired, again and I would notice the my heart felt “flippy” every now and then and I tried to ignore it.
I finally decided that I should fess up to my doctor and ask for tests to be run. My brother and father had cardiomyopathies diagnosed when they were about my age. Monday, was a stress ecocardiogram. That’s where they do a base line ultrasound of your heart, then they do a stress EKG and while your heart is racing, they do another ultrasound of your heart. After the first phase of the test was finished and I was sitting on the table I went into tachycardia. The good news was they got it under control quickly. Then the cardiologist, who had a personality like a rock, told me that I had the tachycardia and a high lung pressure and that I’d have to talk to my primary doctor to find out what that meant or what to do about it. THIS after he had already taken one look at me when he first came in and said that the trouble with everyone today is that they are fat, lazy and don’t eat healthy. That they all come in whining to him wanting him to find some reason for feeling tired. Nothing would make me happier than if he could just simply tell me that I am fat and lazy and eat too much bacon. THAT I can fix. THIS, I’m not sure about.
It’s 1:30 am and I’ve been lying in bed, hungry for air for an hour after having one of “the dreams”, trying to catch my breath. I feel helpless. When I lie down I feel like I can’t take a deep enough breath. Am I imagining this? Can I meditate it away? Is this a panic attack or something else? I’ve never been one to think I’m sick when I’m not. But, oh how I wish I was a hypochondriac, now. I don’t want what I’m feeling to have any grasp on reality. I want this all to be a bad dream.