So, Hurricane Florence is knocking on my doorstep right now. We live inland in SC, but we’re still in the zone to get up more than a foot of rain over the next few days, heavy wind gusts, flash floods, etc. Right now, we’re not getting any rain yet, but the fir trees out front have been as horizontal to the ground as they can be without snapping. Friends in the town have reported power outages and fallen limbs. And that’s before the damn thing gets here. At least we aren’t on the coast, though, the storm surge is insane.
It has been a hectic few days. Well, it’s been a hectic bunch of weeks, but the past few days have been especially hectic with all of the hurricane prep. At first we didn’t think we would see much from the hurricane, but then it decided to curve, so we’ve been trying to get ready. We have a very small generator, plenty of fuel, candles, batteries, flash lights, propane for a small camper stove, and charcoal for the grill. Plenty of food. As long as the generator doesn’t crap out, we can alternate powering the fridge and the small mobile air conditioner unit (and anything else that needs it), so we’re in a better position than many.
But damn, the stress of the past few days and the past weeks, and the point of this post.
Prior to Wednesday, I had felt on edge constantly, and my chest had been tight and painful for the past couple of days. I figured it was run-of-the-mill anxiety, which hasn’t really been a problem lately otherwise), but with the hurricane and stuff looming, I guess it’s understandable. On Wednesday evening, my left arm started hurting so badly in the upper part that I couldn’t lift a gallon of milk. It was fucking bizarre, as it came on very suddenly and I wasn’t doing anything strenuous. I told my husband, and he said, “Well, as long as you aren’t having chest pain, you should be fine for now…”
I told him that I had been having chest pain, but that I was pretty sure it was just anxiety. He freaked out and wanted me to go to the ER immediately. I took some aspirin and a klonopin and said I’d see how it felt after an hour, and he paced around the house, called his mom and tried to get her to talk me into going to the hospital (apparently she had the same symptoms before her heart attack). After the hour passed, it wasn’t any better, so after some more back and forth, I agreed to go in.
My heart was fine, of course. I had a bunch of tests run, and they all came back clean, except for my white blood cell count, which is always a bit high anyway. The doctor said the heart part had to be anxiety, but he was at a loss for what caused my arm to go haywire. The pain did go away after a few hours, and some shoulder achiness aside, it’s fine now. It’s just so weird.
I’ve had many panic and anxiety attacks in the past, but none that have landed me in the hospital, despite being convinced I was having a heart attack. Thankfully I have already reached my out-of-pocket max for the year, so I won’t have to pay anything. Heaven forbid I ever really do have a heart attack one day, because I highly doubt I’ll trust my body enough thanks to this stupid anxiety to go in.