No, before you assume, this isn't a Colin thing. In fact, I'd be glad never to hear his name again. Even Kat herself said that I need to break this addiction. Yeah, no shit. She's right though that he's not using me for my money when I'm the one willingly giving it to him. And he would probably say the same damn thing. But anyway, the real reason I'm making this post is because this morning, when Christian insisted he needed to take a listen to my heart, as soon as he put his stethoscope on me. . .I was in A-Fib!! I usually feel it when it happens but this time, I didn't feel it at all. He heard it loud and clear though through his steth and it scared both of us. The fact that I could be in A-Fib and not even know it. . .yeah, scary. Now I know why Christian insists that I take my meds as soon as I wake up and why I should be taking them twice a day instead of once, but lately, I've been skipping my second dose since I started to take them later in the day. Christian finally decided that he's had enough. I'm taking it twice like I used to, when I wake up and then when I go to bed and that's all there is to it. Sometimes I wish I didn't allow him to listen to it at all. He's looking at me and shaking his head at me right now, like: "Don't you even. . ." He says: "It's because of that reason that you need to be listened to." Mmm. That's hot. I'll probably tell my electrophysiologist and my cardiologist too later this month. I have a telemedicine appointment with each of them this month. Did I mention my birthday is September 13th? Virgos unite! God this birthday is going to fucking suck. I had planned on saving up to going to Vegas, but then all this bullshit happened. Even if it hadn't happened, I probably wouldn't have had the money otherwise. I guess until they start seeing patients in the office, Christian has to be the one to give me those regular heart examinations. Or his "heart maintenance" as he calls it. Not that I'm complaining. ;) Well, my electrophysiologist is letting patients come in, but you think I'm going to go there and be suffocating in my neck gaiter? The last time I went there, the AC was broken. If that shit were to happen again and I had to keep that shit on me face. . .I would collapse from hyperthermia. No thank you! I'll take my exams from Christian, thank you. I love the fact that he's so much more concerned now, asking me how my heart is doing, if I've had any chest pain or palpitations lately, and reaching out to check my neck pulse when I'm lying down. This morning, after he heard the A-Fib, he took off his steth and immediately insisted I take my meds, which I did, and then he took another listen. Fortunately, it went away almost as fast as it came on. Damon came in and he can always tell when something is wrong. Christian told him and Damon of course got all worried. I know it might sound bad, but I like when he worries because its a rare occurrence. I'm surprised he didn't take out his own steth. He just stood by the bed with a concerned look on his face and waited, asking Christian if I was still in A-Fib but he told him, "she's in sinus rhythm. Everything sounds fine." Damon sighed in relief and was like: "Thank God." God love em'! After Christian was done listening to my heart, he took my wrist and checked my pulse. He was like, "I'm going to have to keep a close eye on that heart, my dear." Mmmm. Not complaining again. Well, unless he hooks me up to the heart monitor. I hate how the gel on those electrodes make my skin all smelly afterward. So yeah, that was cray cray!
So what else? I swear, my mom has a far worse memory than I do. She still thinks that I can go out and get a job. Uhhhh no bitch! I've told her a thousand times that I will never work again until they get rid of that bullshit requirement that everyone wears face diapers and plays patient to their managers. My dad understands and he gets it because like me, he too has breathing problems. First of all, I sweat buckets whenever I work or move around too much. I'll suffocate to death if that fabric starts sticking to my face and have a panic attack, hyperventilating and shit, and then I'll collapse and this shit will happen every single day. No thank you! And besides, I don't need people being all nosy and shit like at the dentist and insisting they check me for a fever when I'm perfectly fine and never get fevers at all. Besides, the manager at any job or whoever would probably conclude that I'm no condition to work if I'm constantly collapsing or passing out or hyperventilating. It's bad for my health. So no, I won't be going to work again anywhere that requires PPE. My mom insists that it's not going to go away anytime soon. Well, then I'm not going to go to work or look for a job anytime soon. Simple as that. It pissed me off so fucking much when I told Colin that I couldn't work because of that and he claimed that it was just an excuse. Asshole! Then he suggested I get a job working from home. Oh, if only that were possible but I don't think there are any jobs that allow you to do that unless you have a small business or something. She needs to wake the fuck up and see the reality and dilemma I'm going through. I mean, fuck, you'd think that she'd get the picture being that I rarely leave the apartment now, if I even do at all. Maybe once every 3 months now. So back off bitch! Kthanxbye.
One more thing, I had to email Colin twice just to get his ass to reply to me because when I told him about my tooth and dental dilemma and asked for his help when all I really wanted was for him to lend a comforting ear and reassure me all would be well and after that first one, he didn't bother getting back to me. So I sent the second one and posed the question, "are you getting my emails?" And you know what the fuck he said? He said and I quote: "Yes I am, I'm not sure what you are wanting. Please let me know."
Yeah. . .bastard. I would've thought him completely heartless if he hadn't added, "P.S. Just breathe and don't sweat the small stuff." But being a life coach, he could've made a better effort. I was like: "Sorry. I was just looking for some reassurance, but yeah, nevermind." And now, God, I just can't with him anymore. Like for real. Clearly he won't offer me any advice or real reassurance and help unless I pay him for it. Unbelievable. Can I ever find a man who will give a shit? This is why I'm a feminist. My Concuans left me, Colin doesn't give a shit about me or my happiness, and I just feel so ugly lately. Ugly and alone and depressed.
God help me. And I'm exhausted so I'm going to sleep now.
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