Panic Attacks And Asking For Help

In the last few weeks, much to my surprise I learned I have a parathyroid adenoma and I will need surgery to remove.  It hopefully explains some of the life impairing symptoms that I have been having for months.  I have felt much older than my fifty-six years and it makes sense now. I had been attributing it to another medication I'm taking and that this just must be aging.  I underwent lots of different tests to come to the previous diagnoses of hypercalcemia and hyperparathyroidism. The last test though to find the affected parathyroid, really did me in.  I can now say, with certainty that I had a panic attack in the middle of it.  It was much more identifiable because I couldn't move. 

I have never named my previous panic attacks.  With my past "freak outs" I just didn't put it together.  My ego probably didn't want to let me and once it was over, I didn't want to think about it anymore. Prior to the last test, I had contacted my pharmacist friend about my claustrophobia and the scan.  She texted, will you have a panic attack?  And until that moment, I had not named any of what I had experienced before as a panic attack. 

I do have panic attacks.  

This one enabled me to learn a few things. 

In order to get a better look at my parathyroid glands, I had a nuclear medicine test with dye.  I didn't take
a gander at the scanner until the night before.  It didn't look good. Yet I thought I will get through it, I will take a Xanax, it's going to be okay.  It has to be, because I really need this test.  I want to know for sure what is draining my energy, giving me body aches, headaches, making my brain fuzzy, as well as going to the bathroom numerous times during the night.   I feel like I have aged two decades in the last few months.  It is hard to be tired ALL the time, even thinking and talking is too hard. 

The part of the scanner that gave me trouble was a large flat panel that was focused on my neck and it had to remain flat to my face about six- seven inches away for the first test of two minutes.   I took the Xanax at 10:00 for the 10:30 test.  I thought that would give sufficient time and also it needed to stay in my system for the other longer scans at 1:30pm. 

The nuclear medicine "guide" Brad was very friendly, used a lot of humor as I was jittery and anxious. It took about ten minutes for the shot of the radioactive dye to settle into my system and away we go.  One of my newer techniques to combat my claustrophobia is to have my mind occupied so I was planning to listen to a podcast or music.  As I walked to get my airpods and phone, he said, it's just two minutes. So I didn't get them. 

( Lesson 1) I didn't listen to my intuition.   

 I should have at least been listening to something. I laid down and the panel lowered in front of my face.  

The life began draining from my body slowly and surely. 

I stayed quiet as I could feel terror move down my body very slowly from the neck down. It felt like the radioactive dye was moving down, but it wasn't. It was past trauma.  

That two minutes seemed to last for hours. All I thought was how could I get back in here and do this again for an even longer time period?!!  Both Brad and another guide Alejandro held my hands during part of that two minutes, bless them. How in the heck am I going to manage this again? 

I sat up, felt like I had to throw up and gingerly walked away with Brad telling me, we will get you through this. 

I had another text conversation with my pharmacist friend.  I learned that my Xanax dose wasn't that strong and I could take another but I would need someone to drive me for the second appointment. 

I enter the zone of one of my absolute worst fears.  Who am I going to get to help me?  I have no one to help me.  It brings up abandonment issues that paralyze me, yet I needed to act and fast. I was forced to start reaching out to persons who could get here in 45 minutes and take me across town to Ochsner Hospital.  At this point, I was ugly crying so I at least wanted someone I felt comfortable with.  An Uber would not do the trick.  I reached out to a few people and there were conflicts, but each one said, they would work it out if needed. 

I was so heartened to know they would show up if they could. 

Tears rolling down my face even now.  

(Lesson 2)  I do have friends who are willing to help.  

My fourth person, Shannon, was off work on Friday afternoon, nearby and available!  I told her I was a hot mess, and she replied, "hot mess is my specialty."  

Relief and gratitude flowed through my body. It was the opposite feeling of the test.   I stopped crying and took another Xanax. 

(A note: I don't like taking Xanax, benzodiazepines can be dangerous if taken regularly, I only use them when absolutely necessary)  

Off we went, Shannon came into the scanner room, talked to me and held my hand for some of it.  I'm here, I've got you.  This time, I did grab my phone and airpods and listened to music. My husband George did a fly by as he was in the middle of five surgeries that afternoon.  It was so much easier this go round.   

(Lesson 3) Take the right dose of Xanax. 

I remember having a great conversation catching up with Shannon on the way home. After a good nap, it all seemed a little fuzzy though, so absolutely I should not drive on a full dose of Xanax.   Thanks Kris! The fun(!)  from this day carried over until the next day.  I felt so drained and experience a panic attack hangover.  Every cell in my body had freaked out for that two minutes and then it went on as I tried to prepare to do it all over again.  I had to be kind and rest and take care of myself.  

I will not beat myself up for having a response that is in my body.   It just is.  If anything, welcoming the unwanted feelings and making friends with it is the way to heal what is in the body.  I have to nurture my own self. Yet, people can also be utterly kind, I have found those people in my tribe to connect with and help me and vice versa.  I have more chances to ask for help as I will have surgery in the next couple of weeks.  

Namaste

Ode to a Uterus: Part 2 - A Real Goodbye This Time

 I didn't think I would be writing about my uterus anymore.  I did ten years ago when I had an endometrial ablation.   https://timetogolightly.blogspot.com/2013/08/thank-you-uterus.html  All has been good for a long time except some ovarian cysts and fibroids that weren't causing any long term problems. Last year, I did find out I was in menopause and began taking estrogen.   

About a month ago, the uterus became problematic again.  A visit with a nurse practioner, and the ER uncovered that my uterus decided to supersize with fibroids and was causing discomfort and pain. I learned about fibroid degeneration, and blood supply.  Tomorrow, I plan to learn more after the surgery is completed that will remove my uterus, fallopian tubes, ovaries and cervix. The key word is after surgery.  

I have learned some things about myself in the last twenty-seven years which was my last "big" surgery. 

I have anxiety.  At times, this anxiety grips my body in paralysis and my mind thinks it's never going to leave my person ever, ever again.  As my heart is racing, my stomach is turning, my whole body is activated but frozen and my thoughts turn to desperation and darkness.  How will I go on like this forevermore?  Who is going to save me? After some time has passed, and the grip of anxiety has lessened,  I forget that I have anxiety.  It has come to be a surprise over and over that this condition is my baseline.   I was shocked, I tell you, shocked when some years ago, my primary care doctor wrote in my chart, generalized anxiety disorder! 

In the past, when I wasn't in the thick of it, I had been in complete denial of it. Anxiety didn't interfere in my life's function until postpartum with my first child. I didn't know what was going on, but it tortured me.   

The last few years, with my fabulous therapist, I have used Internal Family Systems therapy to address and understand my baseline anxiety and feelings of abandonment.  Much time has been invested in knowledge about trauma in the body, and Complex PTSD, etc. For years, I focused on head knowledge which was an avoidant technique.  Now, I address it in the body with IFS, brainspotting, yoga, meditation, mindfulness and new understandings of the Trinity.  Now I know, I need to embrace the anxiety and make space for it and coexist with it, because it is a part of me. 

In late 1996, my last big surgery, was when I was first married and living in Buffalo, New York, while my husband was in his general surgery residency.  I began having abdominal pain and it was my appendix.  On the way to the Millard Fillmore Suburban hospital to have it removed, I'm sure I asked what was going to happen.  My husband told me every freaking detail of what was going to happen. In hindsight, it was best for me not to know the details, including the kicker that there was to be shaving of a certain region! Another thing to block out in that surgery, with my unclothed body laying on the table was a residency friend that had come to our Thanksgiving dinner who would be assisting.  There are things I needed to block out then and now and likely forevermore. 

When I had my appendix removed, I had the really unpleasant memory of being rolled into the OR, but not out under anesthesia yet.  I was very distressed as the room was cold and very bright, and I could see the sterile instruments and every one rushing around to prepare but there was no attention to me.  I felt so abandoned and alone.  It triggered something deeply embedded in me.  They were just doing their jobs but I very much had a reaction that has stayed with me to this day and is coming up as I type this. 

This time, twenty seven years later, I am able to speak up and ask that I not be rolled into the OR until I'm out, ask for a hand or some acknowledgment.  Anything for me to speak up and express myself!   

I am the person to save me. For a few decades, I didn't know how to ask.  I suffered in silence.  I didn't feel worthy to speak up.  

Yesterday, as I discussed the upcoming procedure with a friend group, and I told them about the blog from ten years ago, and how I had wanted to acknowledge my uterus and it's job, my friend started laughing.  She brought up sentiments of Marie Kondo, the house organizer:  In letting go of objects in the home, she would thank them for their service and let them go if they did not spark joy anymore.   

My uterus is banging into my bladder and other parts and is not sparking joy anymore!!  I once again am profoundly thankful for having the privilege of carrying two of the lights of my lives and giving birth.  There was a time, I didn't think that would happen and I am still grateful. 

 I am also grateful to say goodbye to these four reproductive parts.  It is time.  I hope to be productive in other ways using other parts as I continue on with this adventure of life. 

Namaste~

I Go To the Gym to Meditate (Not Exercise)

My relationship with the gym is changing.  Old school me would have to make myself go, because I'm supposed to be there and it was based on looks. Now at fifty-five, it's more about being able to move and function!  I hope to have grandchildren one day and I want to be active with them.  When we took a two week nonstop group trip to Europe this summer,  I wanted to be able to keep up and not struggle, so I trained.  Moving my body now, makes me feel good. 

I also am learning that sitting with my body and thoughts, makes me feel good. 

Actually, better than the gym does. 

As a person who has suffered with anxiety forever (and didn't know it), hypervigilance and people pleasing, I had no idea how much I needed to be still and know that I am.  

Recently, I realized that the only classes I was actually attending at Woman's Center for Wellness were "Yoga Nidra" (gentle yoga with 20 minute guided meditation)  and a  "Breathe and Connect" which was total meditation.  I was going to the gym to meditate?!!  At first, I thought I'm a slacker, but then I discovered practicing in a group honed my skills and that is what I needed at this time.  

I have heard about meditation forever.  I knew it was SO good but when I sat down and tried over the years, I struggled.  I would try here and there.   At church, it was called centering prayer.  I remember sitting in a graduate school class and trying to breathe as instructed and making myself dizzy.  I did not take to it naturally at all.  

It has taken decades to gain this skill.  When I was taking more intense yoga classes and at the short shavasana at the end, emotions would come up and that freaked me out.  I was not okay with what came up because yoga was supposed to be relaxing.  

There is a good Netflix series called "Headspace: Guide to Meditation" by Andy Puddicombe.  He describes meditation as: "a skill of training our mind so that we can have a calmer, clearer mind and a greater sense of ease in our mind, our body and our life."  Andy reports how science has studied how meditation affects heart rate, blood pressure and stress levels and even the structure of the brain.  I can actually change the hardwiring of my brain to lessen anxiety.   That seems really unfathomable to me, but I am slowly seeing that very thing occurring. 

All of that sounds good doesn't it, but it's really REAL.

Mr. Puddicombe also describes how he thought he could think himself out of losses in his life.  I so identify with this.  I wanted to excise any negative emotion that came up.  My feelings frightened me. I was phobic of them.  He states that training the mind is about changing our relationship with the passive thoughts and feelings that come up.  We change our perspective on them and we naturally find a place of calm.  

Ding! Ding! Ding!

This immediately reminds me of an instagram post I read recently.  The opening slide attributed to Lexi Florentina states: We don't actually heal or "get rid of" our pain, trauma or grief.  Instead, we build capacity to coexist with it in a way where presence, safety, and joy can also take place.  

And then she takes the idea further...

Wow! 

The trauma, pain and distress will always be with us, but it is less intense as we process it.  With my therapist, I have processed some of my trauma, and I learned to be with it using IFS therapy.  Over time, I became less emotionally overwhelmed and began to welcome and nurture the scared, anxious, abandoned parts of my younger self. 

I can see now that meditation is a version of this.  I watch my thoughts go by and not attach to them or become them.  I use breathing as a major component to come back to the present as the restless thoughts always appear.  Sometimes, I repeat a positive intention word over and over.  There's so many ways. 

I'm so glad the gym offers Yoga Nidra and Breathe and Connect classes and I tried them!  They strengthened my meditation practice greatly.  One teacher was new to me but her meditation and the calming, nurturing way she led the guided meditation in shavasana was exactly what I needed.  The other teacher was one that I have taken classes from for years and she has taught me during that time to be kind and gentle with myself and send love to the parts of the body that we were stretching.  

So meditation and cardio.  Yoga Nidra and strength training.  The gym can be a place to meditate. 

Both/And

 

Namaste.

Greeting Pain With Loving Kindness: A Lesson From Turning Red

 I am trying to watch as many Oscar nominated movies as I can before the Academy Awards show on March 12. It's an annual tradition and I have to come to terms with watching movies that are not my genre or that I really don't understand, yet usually I find a nugget of a really great truth.  Last night, there was a wonderful moment and it couldn't have been timed any better. 

At this point, I've watched most of the dramas and now I move to watch animated films.  They are my least favorite genre behind action, war or fantasy.  Last night, we viewed "Turning Red" from Disney.  I came into it with low expectations, and it was "free" as we subscribe to Disney streaming.  It was one more box I could check off my crumpled Oscar nominations page.  I have also been obsessively filling out the same online quiz to up my score for how many of the 2023 Oscar nominated movies I have watched compared to others.  I know it's not a hard feat, but I love it. 

I knew there was a possibility that something would hit home for me in this Disney movie.  ("Dig A Little Deeper" from "Princess and the Frog" comes to mind first and I think I wrote about it)

I have been acutely struggling with sadness and anxiety for the last year or so.  The last days, I was really grappling hard with sadness.   It is not a new struggle and I found journals where I wrote the same feelings 6 and 7 years ago. I was writing the SAME exact feelings!!  I chuckled out loud and that felt huge.  I began thinking that as freaking uncomfortable as these feelings are, they are not going anywhere.  And the more gently that I accept them and even welcome them(!!!),  they may grow to be less uncomfortable.  

The following are ideas from ten years ago in my notes on my Iphone, and I will attribute them to Mary O'Malley, an author and therapist whom I likely heard them from at the time: The frontal lobe is dualistic in nature:  we have been conditioned from very early on to live in war.  Our core compulsion is to struggle.  All other compulsions are an attempt to numb out the constant unease of this struggle. What you control, controls you. 

What you control, controls you. 

Eeesh.

Acceptance it is. 

It seems that acceptance is always the solution but it may take time to see and become aware of it.  The pain stands in the way of acceptance. Pain and discomfort need to be welcomed like old friends. Yes, really.  I push pain away, fear it and become obsessed with it.  It is the most difficult assignment, but yet time and time again, this truth is exposed to me. 

What I have come to understand is that I feel like I am becoming sadness, not that it's just come for a visit.  Sadness and anxiety are a protection from from the past, decades ago.  There were events that I could not handle on my own and these were protective mechanisms for younger me. The current me, the older, wiser me has learned tools to better accommodate life.  

Back to "Turning Red"as George, Mallory and I are watching it. Mei is a thirteen year old teenager who is now turning into a red panda when experiencing intense emotion due to powers passed down matrilineally.  The first time she turned into the "monster" while having both anger and joy, I turned to Mallory and said something, like... here we go.  

And then later on in the movie was this fantastic moment as her dad explains to Mei:

"People have all kinds of sides to them and some sides are messy, the point isn't to push the bad stuff away, it's to make room for it, live with it." 

Wow, wow, wow. 

I once again turned to Mallory and said something about here it is (the truth bomb).  She turned her head towards me and had a quiet smile of recognition.

I ADORE and live for these moments. Moments on film or life that reflect something that I have grappled so hard with and I hear the same truth that I have painfully come to.  I love that my daughters and I even lightly touch upon truths that I did not come to understand until my forties and now fifties. 

If watching an animated Disney movie is the catalyst, it's so worth it!

Some of life's greatest pleasures come when you least expect it. 

Namaste.