I almost died today

I'm prone to hyperbole.

And, I almost died today. Seriously. Well, yesterday. I almost died yesterday. I was really happy to wake up today.

You see, I haven't been feeling good. My legs and neck and back and ankles and elbow and hips and well, freaking everything, has been ridiculously stiff. And I'm not sure why.

And, I can't swallow.

Ok, let's back up. I have some diagnosis's. diagnosises? I have anxiety, depression, PTS with no D. Schatzki's ring. Lupus on my skin. High cholesterol. Borderline high blood pressure, (you thought I was going to say personality!), probably at risk for Diabetes. I get a mammogram/scan ever six months. I have a cardiologist, a gastroenterologist, therapist and psychiatrist. Last time I went to see the dermatologist she started burning things off as she said, "Hello, sorry about your nose." My feet are jacked because I was born with clubfoot and my podiatrist thinks I should only wear certain shoes. We monitor my white blood cells yearly. I deal with migraines and I have glasses for myopia and astigmatism. Some combination of letters might fit for me, but I'll leave those to your imagination. Most of these are confirmed by my doctors and others are between me and the internet.

So, any number of things can take me out on the daily, but yesterday--I fucked myself.

I haven't been feeling good so I made an appointment to go see the doctor. I took a picture of the medications I'm currently taking because sometimes I self medicate or decide to go off certain medications because I need to cleanse or take a break. It isn't recommended but well--anxiety.

I showed the doctor what I was taking and she looked at me sideways--you are taking this one, you shouldn't be taking this one with this other one. I looked at the picture and assured her, I made a mistake, I know that one isn't in the line up anymore. I meant this other one. Okay, good. Alright, let's get you on three others. WHAT? Ok. Sounds good. Bloodwork, follow ups, etc.

I go home. I nap because oh, yeah, I can't keep my eyes open when the sun is up and I can't sleep when it is night. And then I go to take my nightly meds and OH SHIT, I am taking that one with that one and somehow I mixed up the bottles. That can't be good. The internet says go straight to the hospital. I go straight to sleep.

I honestly cannot tell you how long I've been screwing it up. I'm grateful the doses are low and I realize that I could have overdosed. And that even though I've shared a document with #thecutehusband he doesn't know my meds. He doesn't know what I'm worried about. So, I talk him through the meds and the concern. We monitor my blood pressure, we take the day off.

I come up with a plan for if I were to feel worse. It involves submerging me in the pool.

And I think, holy shit, I almost just died. And, I drove in Phoenix yesterday so I took my life in my hands then as well.

I'm not trying to be flip about death, it scares me more than anything and I'm often paralyzed by loss (hence the PTS, no D) but also, we have this one beautiful life and if we aren't going in the pool, writing our stories, recording our podcasts, holding hands, professing our love, bringing our dreams into the world, what are we doing?

I don't need to go jump out of a plane or get a new tattoo (well maybe) to feel alive. I don't have to give up TV or the internet, but I can find more time to write. I don't have to tell everyone how I feel about them today, but I can be more connected. I don't have to be so dramatic, but then again.

Anyway, check your meds, bring someone in to the conversation and help you manage. We aren't getting younger or healthier. And we don't have to go it alone.