It’s been a little over the month since ‘the” heart attack. I’m not sure how to talk about it, and I hate to say MY heart attack. It sort of feels like a black cat crossing in front of me. (my mother was pretty superstitious) Regardless, I need a hug.
There have been many days that I’ve needed a hug. Today is a bigger I Need a Hug than usual. No specific reason other than I’m exhausted. I thought I’d feel better by now. But I don’t. Without insurance I can’t just walk into a doctor’s office to talk about it. And the jerky cardiologist who I met in the hospital for 10 minutes, the one who yelled at me at the follow up visit, yelled “see you in 4 months” as he walked out of the room.
I’m not sure what is normal, what isn’t normal, what the timeline to feeling better should be…or should I expect to feel better.
And in the midst of that there’s the paperwork for financial assistance that is exhausting. Didn’t I go to graduate school and have a career not too long ago? How the hell did things get to this point? Ever ask yourself that? Sucks. Truly. WTF.
The first thing I gained clarity about was releasing friends who stressed me out. No need for a confrontation really. Just let them go. Like the friend who sees herself as “there for friends in need”, yet I’ve never experienced that pleasure. And when I texted her from the hospital with the news of the heart attack she called me. It seemed more voyeuristic than caring. Almost like it was a scary book or icky accident on the highway that she got to drive by. She wanted details, then asked if I was still planning to move to the west coast. (it was 36 hours from the moment I almost died so I was still a little rattled about where I was and what was happening) I said yes–as an automatic response. It was like I was fully coherent.
Her response was–how are you going to do that? Really? We’re going to have THIS conversation RIGHT NOW? All I could do at that point was say goodbye. Before we hung up she asked what she could do. You mean after she shot my blood pressure up? I think the answer is never call me again until she can apologize for such insensitive behavior. It’s a health crisis that makes us evaluate the relationships we have. It has made me evaluate my own friendship and intimacy skills.
What I’m learning is that I am much more emotionally sensitive than I’ve ever let on. I’ve known that friends haven’t been very good friends. That because of my psych background I’ve been a more attentive and listening friend. Perhaps I’ve collected friends who became more like counseling clients than friends. We have a weird symbiotic relationship. Maybe it’s time to revisit my own intimacy skills and my tolerance for truly being known as I am.
Enough to start thinking about as I move forward with this new life after heart attack.
Today I need a hug.