Sunday night, despite being a ‘school’ night is always a late night, making a less than perfect start to the working week. Tonight was a typical Sunday night. Kids into bed early to try and recover from the weekend and more importantly to allow me to enjoy watching So You Think You Can Dance in peace. I have grand intentions of going to bed straight after the show, but get sidetracked watching Rove and before I know it, it is way past my bed time.
Eventually I went to bed, played a game of Soduku just to make sure that I was good and tired, turned on my iTunes and fell asleep within minutes. I felt I was barely asleep when the cat realised that I was in bed so she came to bed too, waking me as she climbed over my pillow to make herself comfortable on my head. I rolled over so I could breathe without getting a furball and went back to sleep.
Monday morning on the other hand has been not so typical. The next hour of sleep passed in a blink of an eye and I was being woken again. This time it was man-child running up the stairs with a smile on his face similar to that of the monsters on Christmas morning. He had just won a major poker tournament online. I am happy for him, really I am. I mean winning is good, winning money is better but really I would have shown my excitement better during daylight hours! I think I grunted and went back to sleep.
The next wake-up I pretended to sleep through, man-child going to the bathroom and then wandering back downstairs. I barely opened my eyes before drifting back to sleep. At some indeterminate time later I was woken again, this time by man-child getting back into bed with his laptop. I was all ready to get annoyed – just because he can’t sleep doesn’t mean that I don’t need to sleep. I asked if he was forgoing sleep for the night to play more poker and watch a movie. I was about to suggest that he do so in a more convenient location like NOT in my bed when I realised he was googling. When I asked what he was doing he replied checking my symptoms, and I noticed that he was holding his chest.
He described his symptoms to me, and to Dr Google – tightness in the chest that doesn’t disappear, tingling in the arm, mild dizziness, clammy hands and not responsive to heartburn type medication that he had taken an hour ago. Now I am no doctor, but they don’t sound like normal 35 year old pains. Now I am no drama queen, but you don’t mess around with the major engine of the body, particularly when you have a family history of heart disease and had him call an ambulance. We both put on some warmer clothes and went downstairs to wait.
The ambulance wasn’t long in arriving (and fortunately didn’t have its lights and siren on to wake the kids and the neighbours) and the ambos were fantastic. They checked him out completely. Whilst they were doing their examinations he began to feel better and colour returned to his cheeks. They offered him a ride to the hospital for more diagnostic examination, but he declined promising to go to his doctor in the morning. It appears that it could be an anxiety induced stress attack, but something worth checking out. I know man-child feels foolish for calling for help, but I was insistent – it is not worth the risk. The ambos insisted that he had done the right thing by calling them, even Dr Google said to get immediate medical attention.
Throughout the entire visit, I was on hyper drive. My heart was racing and I was moments away from panic. I tried to remain detached, knowing that if I lost it, it would only make the situation worse. Now that all is ‘well again’ and our hearts have stopped racing, I am so tired that I don’t think I can sleep, my mind keeps flicking to the ‘what ifs’ and it is best not to go there. I must try to sleep, life continues as normal tomorrow. Good night.