July 9 thru 13… another bout with the "runs." I was so down for a time. I get depressed from reliving the past. Some things are difficult to recall in such detail as I illustrate a part of my life with the feelings I experienced at the time. It's draining; topping it all off is the fact that I don't have much I can do to alter my life now. I get sick of feeling sick, nausea, diarrhea, and weakness; the daily scheme of events some days. I get weak; I cry. Well, I hope its over for a time. At least I'm not down for this entire day!
July 22, 1985… the day started out great. . . good mood. . . even sat outside for a time. After supper my heart started racing, palpitating like a tick. My normal beat is 110-120 which is rather high. We tried the breathing in a sack, holding the breath. Nothing helped. Mom called the doctor and he prescribed valium. The druggist said they would call when it was ready. They never did. Finally Dad just went over; there it was, just sitting on the shelf.
Man, my chest hurt so, I thought I was having a heart attack. The valium didn't help much. That was 3 hours after the episode had begun. Mom slept upstairs on the couch; it was a bad night. . . sweating, aching, and of course, that rapid heart beat! By 9:00 the next morning it finally slowed to my normal fast rate. What relief. That was a 15 hour trauma! I don't see how my heart can withstand it!
July 24, 1985… There isn't much that can be done for me, but it is nice to be so relaxed. I'll take the valium for awhile, especially while I'm so weak. Mom and Dad are a genuine godsend to me. I don't know what I'd do without them in times like this. I look bad; white face, dark eyes, I had best avoid mirrors! I got a catalog of basket kits. I might send for some things. Mom talked with the doctor about the heart episode. He said I should take the valium as soon as an attack begins; if it persists after a 45 minute period I should go to the hospital and be put on a heart monitor to see what is wrong. I hate not being able to take the valium. I liked being "zoned out" for awhile and so completely relaxed. I can understand why people allow themselves to get hooked on a tranquilizer; they afford a great deal of peace and mental relaxation.
Another thing that spurred my agitation was the fact that I enjoyed being pampered by Mom. She'd wake me up, help me get cleaned up for bed, and bring me trays for each meal. It was so comforting, like the feeling of well-being which is so prominent in one's youth, when parents are the primary source of protection and the sustaining power of life.
Well, I got over it. I guess I just didn't feel like facing reality or my life's idea of "normalcy" yet.
July 29, 1985… I had a great surprise… Jon sent 6 long stemmed roses to me saying, "I hope you get better soon." It was so nice and so unexpected, especially since I've been feeling rather isolated lately. I wrote him a thank you letter.
Aug. 1, 1985… I got a letter from Jon; another nice surprise. A letter can be held and read over and over again; a phone call is soon just a memory. I have the "runs" again. Mom brought tea and warm bagels all day. It helps a lot.
Aug. 11, 1985… I've decided to sell the Chevette and my Viscount (bike); it's so stupid… they just sit there and I'm not going to get any better. I'm 39 inches around the middle. The bike was $156 new and it's in good condition. I'm asking $75 for it.
Mom did a raft of typing this past week. I sat on the front steps with
Mom and Dad in the afternoon. It was 75 degrees and so beautiful.