Once again I’ve been googling. I am desperate to get to the bottom of this whole thing going on with me. But every time I type in “chronic hyperventilation syndrome” I find articles riddled with the word “anxiety” and the next thing I know, I have anxiety. There’s the occasional reference to “psychosis” and even “hypochondriac” thrown in for good measure. And before I know it I’m questioning my sanity and wondering if I want to be sick.
Seriously- like SERIOUSLY, I don’t think I have an anxiety disorder, and if I did- my huge thrice daily dose of xa*nax should be helping me feel better, right?!
I’m just so sick of being sick. And super sick of the word “anxiety”. That one word seems to disqualify my misery every time I see a doctor. “Avoid stress.” they tell me. “Get alot of sleep.” They say. “Don’t over do it”. I hear. “Talk about your feelings with people you love.” They suggest. “Don’t ingest caffeine.” I’m told. “Take these narcotics and you’ll be right as rain” they insist. “Breath into a paper bag” I’m ordered.
I’m taking the meds. I’ve been on xa*nax and vi*codin for a month now. I’m resting. Sleeping in, even. I’m setting smaller goals for myself each day. I blog, I talk to Valerie and Joey and Mom and Dad and everyone who will listen constantly. I kicked caffeine cold turkey months ago. I’ve been making the most of my life, just like I always do, because I love life. I’m pushing myself to go back out into the world and to breathe it in. I’ve tried the paper bag thing several times but it doesn’t seem to work. I’m being creative. I’ve been practicing the breathing exercises I’ve found for people who suffer CHS because they don’t breathe with their diaphragm. And still each day is like the last.
I really wish it was “just” anxiety causing my CHS. I have no hang-ups about getting help when help is needed. But I really don’t think that’s it. And I wish someone, anyone, would listen to me. Four months of an anti-depressant didn’t help either. When is someone going to take me seriously?! I told my mom the other day that one of these days I’m going to drop dead and everyone is going to look at each other and go, “Huh? Dur! What happened? Wasn’t my fault!”
Sigh.
For the record, I know that “phobia of catastrophy” is one of the symptoms of overbreathing. I try to keep that in mind and retain my perspective. But when my heart is racing at 130 beats per minute and pounding so hard that I can feel my pulse in my forearms and calves at 2am it’s hard not to think it’s possible that this could kill me.
I just want my life back. I want someone to take a look at my diaphragm, in case it’s the problem. I think it could be, but when I mention the pain/pressure/spasms I have on the left side of my diaphragm my doctors have thusfar completely ignored me.
I want someone to investigate my spine and back injuries. I have back injuries. There is a huge knot between my shoulder blades left over from an accident I had back when I was nursing. And I still have problems with my shoulder and collarbone from a fall a few years back. I also hurt my lower back in a car accident, and sometimes that still bothers me. What if I have a pinched nerve and that’s it and that’s that? Why won’t anybody even look?
And I don’t want to hear the word “anxiety” ever again. Or at least not until someone has actually completed a physical exam on me. Can you believe that not one of the many doctors I have seen thus far has so much as laid a hand on me?
And shouldn’t my medical history matter? I tell my doctors that I’ve had tumors removed on several occasions and it doesn’t seem to make them nervous. But it makes me nervous! What if the pain/pressure I have in my diaphragm is a tumor? What if I can’t breathe deeply and have gotten used to breathing shallow because there is something impeding my breathing?! Nobody will even look! I have three babies to raise. I can’t die of cancer just because a stupid doctor would rather think I’m crazy than sick!
I tell my doctors that I have a (near) perfect life. But they won’t believe me. I do, and I know it! Why won’t they listen? I’m happily married. I have all the help and support at home I could ever possibly wish for, then more. I have three healthy, happy children. We don’t have serious money issues. We frequently travel and make our livings doing what we always wanted to do. What more do I need to say before they get it that I’m HAPPY. I’m not usually extremely anxious! Sure I have stress sometimes. But I don’t hyperventilate when I do. I have a smoke, eat a twinkie and get on with life.
I see a Cardiologist this thursday. I plan to see my regular doctor too. Again. I can only hope that this time someone will do something to either convince me that I do not have a physical malady or that I do have an anxiety disorder so we can get on with the treatment already. Maybe I just need to take enough xa*nax to kill a horse?
My symptoms today:
Woke up with heavy arms, burning elbows & pain in left side of diaphragm
Muscle spasms in hands, face
Muscle twitching in face, arms, legs
Disorientation when moving
Nerve pain in base of hand, thumb, fingertips, feet
My legs “don’t listen to me” so I shuffle
Sensation of “pressure” and dull pain in left side of diaphragm
Occasional heart racing or pounding
Trouble thinking of words
Short term memory loss
Slurring
Feeling faint
Muscle pain all over
I mean, sheeze, louise! Enough already.
Time to go breathe through my nose just five times a minute for a while. It won’t work but I’m not about to be called non-compliant on top of crazy.
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