Tuesday, June 12, 2018

Hello darkness, my old friend

Just when I thought unemployment couldn’t get any more fun, my body decided to throw me another curve ball and give me something new to tackle: anxiety, specifically panic attacks.
Back in March I was at the gym and while performing a set of backward lunges and box step ups, I began feeling like my body was being worked really hard. Me being the consummate athlete that I am, thought, “you just gotta push through the exhaustion.” So I did. That’s when I felt like I was having a bit of trouble breathing. So I stopped working out. A strange sensation washed all over me. I was scared. I felt like I couldn’t breath and that I might pass out or collapse. I steadied myself. Turned off my music. Put my ear buds in my pocket and began scanning the room for someone, a trainer, a familiar gym goer, anyone, that I might be able to ask for help. After about a minute, the feelings and sensations subsided. All was suddenly okay again. Minus the feelings of “WTF just happened?” I decided not to continue doing those exercises and went for a small cool down walk on the treadmill. “How bizarre,” I thought. “I hope THAT doesn’t happen again.”
And it didn’t. Until the following month.
Same experience, different exercises. This time it was pull-ups and dips. The familiar sensation zapped my body and I braced myself against the rack where I was performing my exercises. But once it subsided I was only left feeling perplexed and a bit scared. “Is there something wrong with me? Am I having the beginning signs of a heart attack or stroke?”
But if you ignore something it goes away right? Out of sight, out of mind.
Until the follwing month when it happened for a third time. I told myself that if it ever happened again I would have to go to a doctor. So when I began experiencing that frightening sensation consume my body, I knew what I had to do.
I marched directly to Urgent Care. Urgent Care listened to my heart and lungs, they did an EKG and a chest/lung Xray. Nothing seemed off. “But I was having problems breathing. I almost passed out. Something happened,” I protested. “This is concerning,” said the doctor. They sent me to the Emergency Room at Lenox Hill – a building I have passed by hundreds of time in my years in NYC and was now finally going inside.
ER listened to my heart and lungs. They gave me another EKG. They took blood and urine and gave me an IV to rehydrate me. I got another heart/lung xray. I was there for about seven hours, unshowered and starving since I hadn’t eaten anything before going to workout that morning. The doctor told me that there are no red flags coming up and that I was being released, but I should follow up with a cardiologist.

On my walk home I was confused. How could I feel so crappy three times in the gym and yet, according to the tests at two separate facilities, they think I’m fine.
I was put on an exercise ban until I saw the cardiologist. It was a very long and very tough week of waiting. Trying to stay busy while unemployed is hard enough. The gym was my one constant and now that was taken away from me. It was also Memorial Day weekend. I had not received one single invitation from anyone to go anywhere and all weekend long I watched on social media practically everyone I know, traveling to places near and far, having fun. While I sat at home and thought I might be dying.
The cardiologist reviewed my two separate sets of tests from Urgent Care and the ER and couldn’t see any reason why I shouldn’t exercise. The ban was lifted! I had to schedule an echo cardiogram/stress test, but the earliest appointment they had was three weeks later. Apparently in NYC, unless you’re bleeding out nobody thinks you need to do anything right away.
I joyously went back to the gym immediately after I left the cardiologist. I felt so happy knowing I could exercise again. Exercising means I’m at least TRYING to improve my body, even if my genetics have other plans. I thought it best to go back and go easy. No sense risking a repeat of the previous incidents. I wouldn’t go hard (or go home) until after the cardiology appointment.
That plan lasted about a week and a half.
It was a Thursday morning and I was looking forward to having a good workout before getting ready for a job interview(!) later that day. I was a few sets in on my bench press and there were a few guys at the gym whose pecs I am extremely envious of, so I decided to try to go a bit heavier. “Is that okay?” I thought. “Sure. Why not. These past few sets have been fine. Just make it a little heavier and go slow.”
Which I did. Except when I sat up, there it was. That all-too-familiar feeling, creeping back up. I tried slowing my breathing. “Focus on deep breathes.” It wasn’t going away. I shut my music off. Still not. I’m scanning the room. “Kevin [who I’ve trained with, photographed and who knows about the past incidents] is here. Go to him.” I walked over.
“Kevin it’s happening again.” I sunk to the floor. I focused on my hands. I focused on breathing. Tunnel vision. Nothing else existed but trying to breathe. Trying not to pass out. It subsided. I thanked Kevin for just being there and apologized to his client for interrupting his session. I stood up and got my water and towel and went to the stretch area. I was trying to calm down. Trying to breathe deeper. I needed to get home. I had an interview!!!
Walking to the lockerroom to get my stuff I felt a tingling sensation over my body. I felt cold and sweaty. “Oh shit, I’m going to faint,” I thought. “Just get home, just get home.”
I collected my stuff and began heading up the stairs to leave the gym. But my body had other plans. A huge wavelike sensation began rolling across my body. I wasn’t going to make it home. I needed to sit down. I needed to be near someone. Kevin and his client had gotten to the stretching area at the bottom of the stairs. I hurried back down and sat on the mats. Kevin asked me if I was okay.
“No. Something’s wrong. I don’t know what’s happening,” I said.
“Do you need me to call someone?” Kevin asked.
“I don’t know… “ I paused. Call paramedics? Seriously? Stefan, come on. Don’t be ridiculous! But the more I thought about it, the worse I began to feel. My emotions were on a rollercoaster. I was beginning to feel like I might black out, that I might close my eyes and never open them again.
“YES, call someone!”
Kevin ran up the stairs. I sat there, hunched against the wall. In the background played the familiar upbeat, inspiring music that always plays at my gym. People were walking around, working out, doing good for their bodies. Meanwhile I sat there feeling like I was going to die.
A manager from the gym joined me on the mat and told me he wouldn’t leave until the paramedics got there. Kevin came back and sat on my other side. I called my mom to let her know I was going to the hospital and that I didn’t know what was happening. I hung up thinking that was the last time I might speak to her. It soon took too much energy to try to talk and breathe at the same time, so I began typing on my phone to communicate to people around me. Mom, please contact this person at this company and let them know I can’t make the interview…
The paramedics arrived and they gave me oxygen and then wheeled me out of the gym. There is nothing more humbling than being taken out of your gym to an ambulance in a wheelchair. Go hard or go home indeed. It was my first time in an ambulance.
Yes, I actually had the foresight to take a photo...

Same ER, same tests, same wait, same results. Perfectly fine. WTF. I was so out of it I didn’t even realize I had a hot doctor until six hours later when he told me I was going home.
Another gym ban until my cardiology appointment but going to the ER a second time prioritized me so I only had to wait four days.
Last night, while thinking that “You’re going to the cardiologist and what if they tell you there’s nothing wrong, then what?” I did some reading on anxiety. Symptoms of a panic attack: Palpitations, heart pounding. Yes. Sweating, trembling/shaking, sensations of shortness of breath. Yes, yes yes. Chest pain or discomfort, feeling dizzy, unsteady, light-headed or faint; chills; fear of dying. Yes yes yes yes yes.
Echo cardiogram stress test came back completely fine. It’s official. I’m one healthy man.

“Hi, I’m Stefan, and I’m a panic-oholic.”
Funnily enough I’m relieved. I’m not dying. Which is great news! A weight has been lifted off my shoulders. It’s anxiety and I can fix that. I mean, I’m not surprised that’s what it is. There are so many things that have been happening in my life in the last year and a half that have stressed me out (constant, unending construction in my neighborhood; loud obnoxious neighbors who either have an incessantly barking dog or who don’t know how to live quietly above someone; knowing I was going to lose my job but not knowing when; then actually losing my job).  It was only a matter of time until my body intervened and went into self-preservation mode.
So now what? Well, now I focus on making sure that I chill the fuck out. I’m not big on taking pills if there are natural remedies that can help. So I’m going to try things like yoga, meditation, possibly therapy. And once I get a job (hopefully soon – interview has been rescheduled) my next priority will be turning my focus on moving out of my neighborhood to a section of town that is less chaotic and more zen (does a place like that exist around NYC?).
I turn 43 in a couple of days and usually on my birthday, I like to be traveling and feeling like I’m on top of my game physically and mentally. This year, I just feel happy to see 43 at all. 
And now the fun part. Trying to pay for all these medical services. Oy...

2 comments:

  1. Feel better...check out Inwood for apartments :)

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  2. Oh no! I’m glad you’re making a plan to manage anxiety. If/when you can make therapy a must, rather than a possibility. It has helped me immensely. Love you!!

    ReplyDelete