the stress test

I saw my doctor.  Change that, I saw a registered nurse because I wanted to see a female instead in hopes to relate a little better to my own gender.  It didn’t exactly help.  She was half my age - not to say she didn’t understand; doctors are meant to understand everyone, right?  Still, sometimes I just want to talk to someone who gets me.  Know what I mean?

She was still attentive and helpful.  Yes, it is probably anxiety and she wanted me to do a stress test.  Okay, I figured this was going to happen given what I’ve heard from other people.  And …. I don’t think it’s ‘my’ time yet.  I think it’s just been one helluva a year. And it has caught up to me.  Which essentially means, I still need to be careful and pay close attention to my health.

So …. I was scheduled to go to the hospital a day later for the test. I didn’t tell my girls what I was doing because …. Well, I just didn’t.

The day of the test.

Made it to the hospital at 8 a.m.  Was supposed to be there at 7:45.  I didn’t account for the construction and one lane highway. Still I made it. Got poked with a needle and tons of blood came out.  I didn’t look directly but in my peripheral vision could see all the red. The nurse admitted he was new and had not quite got the hang of placing the needing in the correct direction of the vein to avoid it bleeding. I told him, at least it didn't hurt and he didn't have to do it twice. Perspective.

The IV put stuff inside of me so I could be scanned.

I got scanned.

Afterwards, I got hooked up to a heart monitor and more stuff was pumped inside of me to make my heart race.  It was the strangest feeling ever. It was to simulate me running on a treadmill to raise my heart rate.  My chest swelled and there was a pit feeling in my stomach. It took all of about 10 minutes.

Afterwards, the IV was removed from my arm and I was sent on my way; the nurse told me I now had permission to eat and drink whatever I wanted.

Great, as soon as I could feel my legs under me. I did kind of wonder if they were concerned at all about this woman they just cut loose in the waiting room who in my mind appeared slightly dazed and unsteady on her feet.  But they probably figure, I was in a hospital and had immediate access to help …. You think?

I sat for a moment and then went to the bathroom because that’s what most people do after a long run right?

Put on my hoodie and went to locate the cafeteria in the hospital for the comfort of toast and coffee. Toast because my stomach was not tolerating anything else.

While I was in the tube scanner thing, I kept thinking about what God wanted me to know and what He wants me to be emptied of.  This was part of my homework I was given from my mentor.  To read the Bible and then sit quietly until God spoke to me; letting me know what I need to release myself of. Like all the fears and pain that have occurred in my life that for some reason I hold onto unconsciously.

I closed my eyes as I entered the tube.  Repeating the words I have been telling myself each time I get a few moments alone.  God, what do you want me to know. What do you want to reveal to me.

He revealed my childhood. When I was only about 6 or 7 and we all still lived in the same home. We all, as in a one unit family ... mom, dad and 5 kids.

The night before I woke up about 4 in the morning and begged God to let me go back to sleep, I closed my eyes and repeated the questions to Him.  After going through a few incidences in my life, He took me back to the age of 6 or 7 in my first home.

The green patterned indoor/outdoor carpet that laid throughout the hallway and kitchen. And the one scene that returns to me from time to time.

I am standing in the hallway hiding; I am listening to dad yell at mom.  I yell at my dad to leave my mom alone!

In the next immediate memory I leave my bedroom from upstairs and sneak downstairs to lay down under the dining room table where I hide; I am watching the Tonight show quietly while nobody knows.

Next vision, I am hand in hand with my sister as she walks me down the street to a store so mom and dad can argue in ‘peace.’

And the thoughts go on and on…. So much more.  The worst part of my memory recalls being in the home of the man who abused my mom.  Not going there. Leaving that alone for now.

Nonetheless, apparently there is something in my childhood I need to … come to terms with.

As I walked down to the cafeteria to get my coffee and toast I think to myself, I should have had someone with me.  What if I pass out?  What if I was too dizzy to walk?  I guess they would have told me to bring someone.

But, it still occurred to me.  I am doing this alone.  ***!!Caution — Self-Pity Moment Approaching***!!  Alone. I should have some kind of partner, boyfriend, husband here with me!  But I don’t.  I am sure I could have called a couple people but honestly it all happened so fast, I didn’t think about it. Plus, I don’t want to clutter up someone else’s morning sitting here watching me get poked and eat toast.

So, I do it alone. I am strong enough to do this alone, much like everything else I have been through in life.  I press on. I don’t think twice about handling this stuff alone because it’s pretty much what I have done all my life.

I am literally realizing how much of life I have spent watching myself, taking care of myself and just handling stuff myself.

That is what God is revealing to me. Well part of it.  Doing life alone since I was born. No, that’s not right.  My sisters and brother have always been there for me. Being born 8 years after my siblings did make me a little bit of the loner. Especially once all my sisters and brother moved out and it was just my mom and I and she was going through all her stuff with assholes.