, , , , ,

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.

i need a hug