The downhill slide…
I ended up in the ER on Sautrday morning. Looking back on it now, it seems really dumb.
I’ve been spinning in the evenings to get my bike fitness up again. Which… if you’ve ever been on a spinning bike… they are awful and completely medieval. And really, I should just be doing actual trail riding to get my fitness back up.
Anyways, on Friday night I was feeling like I’d just ridden bareback up Brokeback mountain (AND spent the night there)… and I was feeling quite miserable about how sore my ass was and decided to pop two muscle relaxants and some Cataflam just before bed… which was probably at about eleven thirty. (I’ve never taken muscle relaxants before) and promptly fell asleep. At one fifteen I sat bolt upright in bed… I felt like absolute death. I sorta trundled into the dining room and sat the table and measured my blood pressure. 180/110 with a pulse of 110. Which… is not something you want to wake up to. (My resting pulse is usually a very respectable 60bpm).
My wife drove me to the ER where I had an ECG… which was fine. And a chest X-ray, which was also fine. And some blood-tests, Troponin… which was also fine. And a D-Dimer… because having an an experience which a pulmonary embolism I wanted that to rule that out. Also fine.
The ER doc said I’d probably had an anxiety attack and didn’t really give any credence to my bad muscle relaxant trip story. Ha. Wrote me a script for some Clonazepam and sent me on my merry way. Thanks for playing.
I don’t think I had an anxiety attack. So I’m not taking my benzodiazepines. On the upside, my old man dying of a heart attack recently, a ECG and a chest X-ray have sorta been on my to-do list. So at least I’ve crossed something off my increasingly burgeoning collection of mental post-its.
Maybe I am anxious? Or stressed?
You’d think I’d be, I don’t know, cognizant of such environmental developments. Unless I’m really burying those things deep in the substrate of my mind. I mean its possible. I have recently been thinking about… well, death and dying. And how I have zero spirituality. And wondering if that’s a problem. You… know, in that whole, body, mind and soul… eh… triumvirate.
I probably score okay in the first two. But… ergh. I think I used to be quite spiritual. Until my great fall from heaven that is. Does having a spiritual component to your life make you more… I don’t know, resistant maybe. Complete? Does it tick that meaning of life box?
Its possible I’m having an atheistic crisis of… eh… non-faith. Look at me I’m drinking loose-leaf Rooibos, that’s mental upheaval one-oh-one right there. Along with downloading the Headspace app and cutting out processed food.
Plus all that other stuff I’ve kicked to the back of my cranium… the I-don’t-really-know-what-I’m-doing-with-my-life stuff.
For a Friday night the ER was completely deserted. For the two hours I was there, there were only two other walk-ins and no ambulance’s. Some guy who’d clearly been in a fight, someone had split his lip something fierce… and despite him holding a kitchen towel to it was dripping blood everywhere. And then the… I guess, obligatory now, Covid case, who thought he had Corona and was struggling to breathe.
In event, maybe it really is this weird purgatory I’ve… self-inflicted on myself, where I have no goals or real purpose.
Anyways. Maybe something will occur to me later. After taking a cold-shower and rotating my prayer-beads while I sit cross-legged on my grappling mat… eh… probably giving myself pins and needles.
Is it just me or can forty year olds not sit crossed legged anymore?